Evidence
by AllTheSnakes
Summary: It's Schlepped Away with a twist - if it had happened again, later in the series. With some help from an unexpected source, will things change for Niles and CC?
1. CC

_I am imagining this at the 5__th__ season, soon after From Flushing with Love. I watched the episode again, and it's ridiculous how we never got to see the repercussions the end of the 'Unholy Alliance' created_.

_The situation in this is inspired by Schlepped Away, but I always think of Niles and CC, in terms of behavior and appearance, as they were in season 3 and 4, because I think both are at their cutest, then. _

_And close – as they should always be._

**Evidence**

**Chapter 1: CC**

She couldn't believe it was happening again.

She had been stranded in the Fines' house once, in the way to the airport; she thought it would never happen again – she took all the care in the world to not create the circumstances, not accepting lifts in snowy days, and especially not accepting invitations that included going to the Fines'.

But Fate was a bitch, and she accepted a lift home, and of course the Nanny had to go to Queen's first, and everybody obviously agreed (because common sense flew away from that family when that woman was concerned).

To top insult to injury, she even forgot to go to the bathroom before accepting the lift from the Sheffield clan plus the Servant Duo of Apocalypse. So, when they reached the damned place, all she could do was get out of the limo and run to the house to pee.

When she got out of the bathroom, relieved and feeling ready to get out of there even in the snowy weather to find a taxi if Sylvia couldn't call for one, everybody was already commenting what a coincidence that authorities had announced people should stay inside, and that they were trapped there again.

CC deflated immediately, with the feeling of déjà vu capturing her and making her sit, desolated.

It was mere three hours ago from the moment they got out of the mansion to take something Fran needed from her parents' house, to this moment.

CC just thought it would be all right if she accepted the offer of a lift.

And here she was, curled in a small ball, trying to keep any heat she could in order to sleep.

When Sylvia had said the heater in the living room was not in working order (and told a horribly gross story about how she and Morty had discovered it, involving cold feet and goosebumps and – oh, dear God, why so much information?!), people started deciding where and how they would sleep.

Soon it was decided that the girls would share a bed in Fran's old room, while the boys would occupy the floor of the same room.

(Everybody was anxious to preserve their hosts' privacy.)

She remembered Fran, Maggie and Grace looking among themselves, trying to discover how they would manage to fit all in one bed, and throwing glances at her from time to time. CC knew they wanted her to participate in the debate but were a bit wary to ask her to openly.

(She was familiar with the fear she brought on people. And she usually kept silent and let it linger as much as she could, just to see them squirm.

In this case, however, it had to do with a sense of dread at the possibility of staying in the same bed as other people.

She was raised without ever sharing beds with ever her siblings – her mother said it was not classy that children slept together as a litter. They always slept alone, no matter what happened – nightmares, night fears, the missing of their workaholic father – and CC kind of envied how easy it was for the Sheffield children to learn to share space after Nanny Fine arrived in their lives.

For CC, it was too late.)

Her attitude didn't stop the said Nanny for much time – soon the brunette called her and motioned for her to get closer and help them to solve the puzzle.

Obviously, CC stated she couldn't think of herself in such a situation as sharing a bed with other people, crossed her arms and blocked out the raised voices trying to reason with her.

However, she heard when Niles made a bitch joke; she just rolled her eyes, decided to ignore even him. There was no way she would let his influence over her made her an easy target – she was locking everybody out.

(In many situations, she just got involved – and sometimes in the eye of the storm – because she _had_ to answer him. She had learned that teasing him back gave her a high that just alcohol could compare to.

But it took her out of her comfort zone – what alcohol had the advantage of not doing.

All she didn't want was getting out of her usual way, tonight.)

So, she didn't accept the banter. She just voiced again her decision of not sharing a bed.

And then, she heard clearly the barely contained despise in his voice when Niles said something about her being the Ice Queen and not minding to freeze alone in the sofa.

She was confused: he had agreed with her about her choice of location, but the way he said it carried a kind of anger she didn't know what meant.

And when she could think again, everybody had agreed with him and was going away to the bedroom to organize their things.

She even threw a quick glance at him and saw he had stayed behind, the look in his face showing he was as surprised at people's behavior as she was.

She knew he had looked at her for a moment, before opting for getting out of the room in silence.

Now, all she could think was that Niles' words were true: she must be made of ice, if she preferred the cold and loneliness instead of the company of other people.

Maybe she should die of hypothermia, alone in the living room of a low class Jewish family. The family of a woman who she uses to despise day-in, day-out.

CC trembled. Would it just be the cold? Or it was the recognition of the karma?

She fought to maintain her rational view on things. She was freezing and sincerely a bit frightened by the perspective of waking up very sick in the morning, but she would not let herself believe in stupid things as Fate and Karma.

Or Jewish curses.

She pushed the sleeves of her blouse (no one offered her acceptable pajamas, so she kept her label clothes in bed) and clenched her fingers to keep them covering her hands. She had put her overcoat on the covers Sylvia had brought to her, and the weight helped to keep some warmth.

For a moment, she wondered if it was how it felt to be a hobo in winter nights, trying to sleep under a pile of clothes while trying to not loose grasp on reality.

She, the rich socialite, was reduced to a quivering human being by her own choice, and that reality was not helping her to reach sleep.

Sometimes she mused on her life choices: she was relatively successful in her job (she wished she could be more, but Maxwell's name was always in front of hers); she had an useful circle of friends ('friends', in fact); she had dated some seriously successful men (all of them a bit frustrating and lacking interest to her when they were by themselves).

And her pursuit of Maxwell was so frustrating she couldn't think of anything more annoying...

(In fact, she could. Maxwell giving attention to such a floozy as Nanny Fine, instead of her, was very annoying).

So, her life was a list of almost-great things. Things that looked good on paper, but usually gave her half the expected satisfaction.

Then, what made her have the familiar thrill to get up from her bed every morning and go to the mansion? What did keep her going on?

In her slightly confused thoughts (it was difficult to think when you are cold and fighting the blunt of sadness), she realized she had not thought of the place she worked as _Maxwell's_ house, but as _the mansion_.

She perceived that place as the one where she had the most interesting things of her day. There, she felt as at ease as if the place was hers. Maybe even better, because she didn't have to worry about taking care of things (the place was not hers), or maintaining an acceptable behavior (people there already knew her – there was really little to hide).

It was almost impossible to believe, but she felt _accepted_, in the mansion. People there were sincere about how they felt about her, but none of them ever seriously found her _unbearable_.

(She remembered her father saying, once, _'You must behave, kitten_', and her mother adding,_ She is often like this - unbearable'_.

She always tried so hard, and still failed.

Years of therapy showed her it was her infant mind that believed she was a failure, but the pain was still there when someone said it was impossible to be near her, or with her.

With the years passing by, and Niles insistently joking about her going away in the most imaginative ways, she realized the pain had diminished. She recognized the most the subject was brought on, the less serious and difficult it turned to be.

There is a limit for the number of times a man can say you should take your broom and go home and still make you feel any pain. It soon turns into anger, then into annoyance, and then into a strange urge to answer back and accept the game for what it was – a battle of wits.)

Again, about the good feeling she had over the mansion: if the point was not her job (yelling at people on the phone was thrilling, but couldn't be her own hobby), not Maxwell (who was just working and/or distracted by familiar shenanigans), it just could be the nanny (who she hated deeply, for all she represented), the children (who could be amusing, but she didn't care that much for them), or Niles...

Here, recoiled in a little ball, trembling in the cold, CC could admit that she didn't think of him as _the butler_. He was _a person_, to her: an intelligent man, charming, funny (she enjoyed his zingers – she could live without the practical jokes, but, well, she had to admit the desire to outsmart him was a good incentive). She enjoyed their chatting and, when they were alone, he often talked to her as an adult. Or, at least, made clear the teasing was just teasing, not meant to really offend.

It was a pity he was so mean to her when other people were at stake. She didn't quite understand why he changed his attitude when other people were around.

It intrigued her, but she couldn't bring herself to think about it now, in these adverse conditions. It usually tired her; now, it made her thinking process simply halt in desorientation.

What she was sure was that, if Niles and herself joined forces, they would be undefeatable.

Well, they had just joined forces against Nanny Fine last December, and it had been awesome!

Not just the fact they had been mean to the woman she hated and he usually adored.

It was not just about ganging up against Nanny Fine.

It was more about spending time together.

And even more about discovering they were really similar and could become affectionate to each other very easily.

January was reaching its end, that thing with Niles was more than one month old, and she still dedicated her nights to drink tea, at night, while looking through her big window to the New York view and remember the warm feeling she had when he went there to pick her up – for their pottery classes, for dinner out, for drinks.

A vivid warm feeling.

Warm – nothing like what she was experiencing now.

In fact, she understood why he had cut their relationship short. It was getting too much into a very short time.

She remembered the first time he insisted taking her home after she had stayed at the Sheffields' after dinner. Everybody had retired, and he said it was late and she should not go away alone.

She remembered next night, the first time she invited him in, and they started the tradition of tea and conversation.

She remembered the last night he took her to her door, and how the conversation was so great it felt absurd not to invite him to come in. Again.

That night, they dedicated some time to plotting how to make Nanny Fine suffer in the next day, but soon they were talking about things in general.

The theater, the news, the weather.

How an actor had been provoking her wrath and how she had been dealing with him.

How the children had finally learnt not to eat in the living room without napkins, no matter what they saw the Fines doing.

She remembered his satisfied smile while sitting at her sofa with a mug of tea he had made, at a respectful distance from her, who was very comfortable at the same sofa.

He kept looking at her fondly while they exchanged impressions over things shared.

She remembered the way she foolishly decided to set herself up, commenting she was not used to tea at night, but to hard drinks.

She remembered how he shook his head and answered she should not chastise herself, and just enjoy the novelties when they came.

And then he easily brought up a new topic of conversation, and they kept chatting and teasing and being just happy together for a lot of time.

It was really late when he went home, that night.

She remembered how both hesitated when he looked at his watch and said that maybe he should go.

They got up, locked stares, and were frozen for some long moments, realizing they didn't want to part.

In fact, it was obvious to her that they wanted to get closer.

For God' sake, what was wrong with them?!

They had a truce, but it didn't mean they really liked each other. They had united for a cause.

Wasn't it?

CC remembered how she forced herself to look away, and ended up looking at his hands.

She saw he had closed his fists on his sides, as she knows he does when he fights for control.

He looked away and said, with a lot of effort apparent in his voice, 'It has been some time that I didn't feel so good'. And he glanced at her for a moment, 'Thank you'.

They exchanged smiles over that, and he almost ran to the door and stopped there, waiting nervously for her to open it for him.

She did it and let him go with a barely audible 'Good night, Miss Babcock'.

It was as if any moment more with her could provoke something... that shouldn't be.

CC put her hands under her armpits. The cold was making it impossible to sleep, even if the thoughts were making her tired.

Her feet hurt a bit, and she had a strange urge of crying.

She felt so stupid and so alone, and it was impossible to do anything to remedy that.

It was too late for her.

Even the most intelligent guy around couldn't bring himself to... no, he wouldn't _let_ himself to like her.

The evidences that both enjoyed each other's company were all there, but neither of them wanted to deal with that, because he had a soul and she was...

... the Ice Queen.

And she had no hope of changing it.


	2. Niles

**Evidence**

**Chapter 2: Niles**

He had been trying to sleep for some time, now.

And he was more and more certain he would not be able to.

Of course, sharing the floor of the small bedroom with heavy-sleeper Maxwell and kick-boxer Brighton would not be easy, anyway, but what was keeping Niles awake was the feeling that Babcock could be suffering, and that he was the one to blame for it.

And this time he hadn't made it on purpose.

She had hesitated before coming; she intended to decline from the invitation to come in the limo with the family. He could see her squirming and searching for a way out.

However, sometimes she was like a child: she did things that she knew were not good for her, just for the enjoyment of the moment and the immediate pleasure they could bring.

(Niles suspected she had serious issues with long-term relationships, probably related to her divorced parents; so, she always searched short-time fulfillment: that was why she had smoked, that was why she still drank more than she should, that was why she clang to the first charming millionaire who presented himself...)

So, when Maxwell said he would be glad if she came with the family, she simply let any doubts aside, forced a smile and did what she thought the man wanted her to.

Niles sighed and turned to lay on his back, annoyed.

He had to stop thinking about her.

She had put herself in that situation.

If she had stood by herself, as the independent woman she was, she would not be in the probably freezing living room.

He supported his forearm on his forehead, closing his eyes in an effort to relax, but the conversation from earlier kept coming into his mind...

_'I won't share a bed with anyone'._

_'But, Miss Babcock', Fran pleaded, 'it'll be fun!'_

_'Fun while sharing a bed is not a familiar concept to her, Miss Fine. She is a professional'._

_She just rolled her eyes._

_'Besides, you'll freeze, here', the brunette tried again._

_'I'm a Babcock. I'm not subjecting myself to the humiliation of sharing a bed with children and the hired help'._

Niles still felt the pain on his chest when he remembered her words.

It was humiliating to share a bed with _the help_, even if it was in a moment of need.

Now, Niles covered his face with his hands: _need _was the most correct word to describe their current relationship.

He has been in need of her for years, now.

He was addicted to her, in fact. He enjoyed every moment he spent in her company, and he knew it was sick how much he tried to attract her attention in a daily basis, so the game could go on.

So, she would not loose her interest in him.

That truce they called, in order to pester Miss Fine, had been the last straw: at the end of the second day, he was already trying to find excuses to be with her out of the mansion.

He realized, to his horror, that snobbish, cruel CC annoyed and attracted him, but that relaxed and lovely CC could do what she wanted with him.

He spent the last day of their truce avoiding her and racking his brain for ways to mend his situation with Miss Fine. He just needed to make Babcock go away from him.

At least, physically. Because, deep inside, she had already marked her territory.

(Oh, a dog zinger! These things just wrote themselves when he thought about her!)

That last night of their truce, in her apartment, when they shared comfortable companionship, he grew more and more attached to the situation of being so personally close to her.

He felt his control slipping away, an urge to tell her how much he liked her getting root in his brain and menacing to escape at each time he opened his mouth to speak.

He was famous for blurting things out; he was not good with secrets. He had found the only outlet to his affection for her in the banter, and he needed to keep it alive, or he would say everything he had in mind.

Without the banter, all he could think was of sitting closer to her and telling her how much he liked her, and then kiss her leisurely.

That night, he had looked at his watch, in an absurd move to put the decision in the hands of Fate: if it was early in the night, he would do something; if it was late, he would call it a night and go home.

It was very late – it was almost midnight.

A bit disappointed, he told her he should go home.

He remembered he could almost hear himself saying, _I don't want to go._

And he could almost read in her eyes _I don't know if I want you to go._

He waited for her to say it. He needed her to say it. He was sure of his feelings, but he wanted her to recognize hers, too. This thing between them was so special he wouldn't risk declaring himself and making her so frightened she would say the first stupid words that came into her head, ridiculing him just for the sake of protecting herself.

As always, she didn't say anything.

He understood it was too much for her.

Niles got up, realizing she was doing the same, as if they were synchronized.

He remembered their kiss in the den, and how similar this was.

And this time they were alone – if they did it, no one would be there to interrupt.

His heart went small when they just stood in front of each other, a replay of their kiss begging to happen, and both couldn't bring themselves to act.

He felt that urge to say something coming back, panicked a bit and fought for control.

Making an effort to compromise, he concentrated, chose the words and confessed how much her company made him feel good.

They smiled at each other. In sync, as always.

He had to get out of there.

He ran to the door, and he barely said goodnight, and he almost choke when her name went through his lips, and he went home tormented and plotting how to end that truce before something horrible happened.

And by horrible, he meant two main things: 1)certain rejection or 2)her usual ambiguous moves turning even more ambiguous, making him glued to her net while she hid in her own self-defense methods.

That night proved to him that she needed him, too... that she felt happy with him.

That she was even more wonderful than usual, in his eyes, when she was happy.

And that she would probably never act on it.

Niles sighed and turned over on the hard floor. He regretted how he had let his anger come out, earlier tonight, saying that the Ice Queen would be very comfortable in the cold living room, alone.

They had been so close to something, so many times, and she kept repeating the same old things about servants being so beneath her that she couldn't consider the possibility of respecting them, much less _liking _them.

When everybody agreed with him and started leaving the living room, he almost opened his mouth to tell them on their lack of consideration for her.

But there was no way he would have the braveness to do something even remotely nice to her in front of them.

He could be the guy of her dreams when they were alone (he wished he knew if the guy in her dreams would do what he did to her in his fantasies – treating her like a queen in every context possible), but when there were other people around and she acted like she hated everybody (including herself), he couldn't bring himself the pain of showing how much he cared.

And he cared.

Dear Lord, he never thought he was capable of caring so much!

One more kick from Brighton, and Niles decided he had had enough.

He got up, adjusted that damned _World's greatest lover _t-shirt Sylvia seemed to always have in stock for him (_'Morty got a bit jealous, last time. Maybe you should just take it with you'_), circled the people on the floor and exited the room silently.

Yes, he was going to check on her.

If anyone saw him, he could always say he was going to use the facilities.

Nobody needed to know he had a soul and it worried about that woman.

Once he was out, in the corridor, Niles felt the blast of cold. Of course, it was worse because he had been in a heated room, but he regretted not wearing his pants.

Well, it was not like he intended that Babcock saw him, giving her the chance to ask if he was giving her a repeated performance of _Risky Business_, with those socks.

(Not that Niles would mind seeing her probable smirk when she mentioned that moment. He had never forgotten the look in her eyes after he threw that killing zinger at her, and the way her eyes seized him for a lot more time than it was comfortable.)

Arriving in the living room, Niles noticed he was getting used to the difference in temperature, but that it was still bad. He wondered how she was coping, once she didn't bring clothes appropriated to sleepover, and he had heard Sylvia saying something about the shiksa ignoring her when she offered one of Morty's pajamas.

(Because it seemed Sylvia just had sexy nightgowns.)

He went cautiously to the big sofa and noticed the curled form.

There was a lamp on in the kitchen, throwing a hint of light in the room.

He got closer and saw trembling agitating the covers and the small portion of blond hair that was out.

Niles gulped. He was certain she would be ok, when he decided to came. He was sure it was just a matter of seeing with his own eyes how well she was dealing with it (maybe even snoring loudly, if he was lucky), and then he would be back to his bed in peace.

However, she didn't seem to be ok.

What was he to do?

He could wake her up, access her condition and menace her with hypothermia, to make her come to the bedroom with him.

(He felt himself warm over the idea of bringing her to the bedroom with him.

He really must take a hold of himself.)

But, what if she didn't come? What if she yelled at him and woke up all the house and he had to explain he had come to check on her?

He could say he came to play a prank... and that she woke up... And then he could make people notice she was freezing, somehow...

She shivered again, under the covers.

Niles took a decision. He would act. He would be with her for a while, until... until he felt it was enough.

But, then, he hesitated again: what was the best approach? To pull the covers, lay there quickly and grab her before she could push him away?

No.

She had to come to him.

She had to accept what he had to offer.

It was no use if he was going to force him on her. He had never done that, and it was not changing tonight.

Niles raised the covers delicately and laid down by the back of the curled body.

He put down the covers and went slowly closer to her.

He waited for some moments, until he was sure she could feel his heat on her back, even if he was not touching her.

She moved a bit, bringing herself instinctively closer to the source of heat.

Niles slowly sneaked a hand to rest on her hip.

He expected her to come even closer to him – what she did.

He didn't expect her to turn around and nestle on him as if he was the most comfortable thing in the world – what she did, too.

He expected even less that she would bring her head close to him until she found the perfect place to fit it, between his shoulder and his chin.

What she did.

He also didn't expect her to turn her nose into his neck, inhale deeply and sigh blissfully, before relaxing and falling into a peaceful sleep.

What she did.

With a low satisfied moan.

Niles didn't know what to do.

Of course, the right thing was...

What?

Staying there and help her?

Fleeing?

Telling her he was not the hot water bottle?

The witch must have felt his indecision, because she moved, putting a leg between his and making sure he was not going anywhere.

Niles closed his eyes and rationalized that, being him an early person, he would wake up before her, and could go back to his bed and save face, in the morning.

That settled, he was free to help her better, and moved his body to mold her even better to his chest, adjusting the shoulder she was resting her head in, so he was able to circle her body with that arm.

She seemed to like the idea, because it made her snuggle herself against him, her own free arm hugging him by the waist, and her thigh grazing a part of him that was awakening quickly.

She sighed again in pleasure.

Niles started focusing on how cold she still was, in order to control a bit of his own reactions to her proximity.

Her breathing on his neck was not helping.

But he was a gentleman, after all, and he was perfectly capable of sleeping with a woman in his arms.

Even if that woman was the Devil herself.

Niles chuckled – if he had said that the Devil would not feel at home in a frozen place, maybe things would have never reached this point...

(Not that _this point_ was that bad...)

_I must remember that thing about Hell to use tomorrow. It will be a great zinger… _

_I should, really, plan some good zingers to say in case she wakes up before me and demands explanations…_

_Yeah… I should… I will... in the morning..._

Niles yawned, kissed her temple and fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	3. Grace

**Evidence**

**Chapter 3: Grace**

Grace woke up in the middle of the night.

She had been dreaming about something she couldn't quite remember, but surely involved Freud explaining some important issue to her.

She hated when it happened: she had got the idea so perfectly, it had made so much sense… and then it was gone!

She sat on the bed, looked around and thought, for a moment, about waking up someone to talk about it.

To her right, she had Maggie, probably dreaming of her overcrowded dating life.

She was not a person with whom Grace could discuss any frustration over loosing a revolutionary analytical concept.

To her left, she had Fran, probably dreaming of Grace's father finally making his move.

Or her own mother _moving_. Sometimes it was hard to say what would make Fran happier.

The girl decided to get out and have a glass of water. Fran was not stupid, but her current mental state was not adequate to discuss Grace's frustration.

(Not that Freudian issues were that out Fran's mind. Grace just felt she was not habilitated to deal with Fran's level of difficulties with Freudian issues, as motherly figures and the need for men's approval.)

She got up from the bed, more or less waking Fran in the process, but managed to climb out without much turbulence than a nasal brief comment.

Grace circled the bed, curious to see how the boys were doing on the floor, and noticed two things that called her attention.

First, her brother was kicking crazily. She thought he would be over it with the years going by, but it didn't seem to be the case.

Wasn't it lucky she had brought her recently bought camera?

Second thing (and she mused over it while she searched the camera in her bag), Niles was not there.

He could have just gone for some water, too, but Grace knew Miss Babcock was alone in the living room, and who knows which idea he could have come with, to seize the opportunity.

She opened the curtains to let the moonlight enter, snapped a shot of her brother in a ridiculous fighting position while in his pajamas, and got out of the room.

The blast of cold made her tremble when she reached the corridor.

She got the camera more steadily in her hands. She was carrying with her lately to every place she went, interested in registering people's spontaneous reactions in everyday interactions, in order to analyze them afterwards. She has been reading a lot about body language, what she found a fascinating subject.

What she really wanted was a video camera, but she couldn't make her mind on either hiding it in some place (what she thought was wrong) and telling people the thing was there (what she thought ended up useless).

This trip had already proved great to her amusement, with Brighton's shot, but now she had an even better possibility – you can always count on a prank, when Niles and CC Babcock are around.

And blackmail is something she had learned from Fran that can be useful.

(She liked Niles and CC, but she had to think of her future needs. Who knows what kind of thing she could register, and how worth cookies and warm milk in bed or lessons over martinis it would be?)

She had to admit that she liked when Niles had some time just for her. He was very clever, and she enjoyed the kind of mental challenge that chatting with him brought up. Sometimes, she asked for milk and cookies just because it gave her the opportunity to deal with sarcasm.

In the same note, Miss Babcock was very funny, with her strange approaches on people, and the (usually mean) things she chose to show about herself. Grace found her deeply interesting, but knew she was the kind of person you must get closer slowly, and often step back to a safe distance at the minimal sign of danger.

That little dance the producer and Niles had was a very interesting one, and Grace had great interest in learning about it.

She arrived at the living room and noticed the big lump of covers on the sofa.

She approached to look curiously at the immense amount of covers Miss Babcock must have got to reach that size, and prepared the camera to snap a shot. Niles could figure out something over the woman sleeping under a mountain, like a legendary monster.

He had a lot of cultural references for that.

She looked for a position that could capture the light of the kitchen, and got closer to the sofa.

The lump moved, and she put down the camera, waiting for it to stop, so she could take the shot.

Grace noticed the lump had a pair of heads surfacing from it.

One of them was Miss Babcock, as expected.

The other was Niles.

He was turning to his side, on his sleep, making the covers slide from his shoulder.

Grace noticed he had CC's hand in his, and when he moved, being with his back to her, he took her hand with him, pulling her.

Following his movements, she turned too, and snuggled against his back, resting their joined hands on his chest.

The process made the covers slide to their waists and, even with the cold air, they didn't seem to notice.

Grace smiled at their cuteness.

They fought so hard to maintain that façade of hate and pestered each other so much, and a cold night was enough to melt them into cuddling partners.

The girl stopped smiling at that thought.

Their said little dance made them two very lonely people, if you really think about it.

Niles has been taking care of her family since forever. She can't even think of life without him in it, ready not just to serve her, but to teach her things she needed to know. Fran had brought lightness to her life, but Grace owed Niles the stability and wit she learned how to use.

He had never had a life out of the mansion. He spent even some of his days off, there. He was, in fact, like an uncle who lived with them and dedicated his life to care for the family, as if there was nothing else that mattered to him.

Miss Babcock had her life around the Sheffields, too. She just worked, tried to please her partner and bantered with Niles. Grace liked her independent attitude, and always got confused by the fact that the woman found necessary to be mean (or to pretend to be) to be seen as an important and respected person.

Niles has been provoking her about it for years. He included her in the things going on in the house through the banter. Grace could think of a number of situations when Miss Babcock was pretending she was not paying attention, just to react as soon as Niles threw a barb at her.

And, lately, she had been saying what she thought about things, even when he didn't bring her in.

Grace frowned – so, Niles made efforts to bring Miss Babcock into the familiar affairs; he had turned himself into a part of the family, and he wanted her to be, too, making her show that she cared.

And tonight he had come to not leave her alone in the cold, once she was not ready to change her attitude even when it made her suffer…

It meant Niles did not just care for Miss Babcock. It meant he made consistent efforts to be closer to her. He generally forced her to move and get closer, but tonight it was necessary for him to move. And he did it.

Sometimes he would not serve Grace cookies because he had to do all the work of fetching her and bringing to her in bed; however, for Miss Babcock, he would sleep in the cold, even if he knew she was being just stubborn and snobbish.

And, for her part, it was easy to notice she was letting him, little by little, crumble her reserves. She still got a lot of things wrong in terms of personal relationships, but the fact she accepted the contact he offered – verbal in a day to day basis, physical at this moment – was proof that something was changing inside the businesswoman.

Grace pouted. Both were changing because of the other, but it seemed that Niles was taking the most of the effort of it on him; Miss Babcock could easily just pretend she didn't know what was happening.

And, for years, they kept their little dance alive, in a choreography that demanded them to get close and then pull apart.

Well, if Grace could do something to help them to find a better way of doing it, she would.

She chose a better position and took a shot of them just like that: sleeping together, hand holding, as if they fitted together naturally.

She was still not sure how she would use it, but she was sure what she had in her hands was conclusive evidence about those two, and that someone had to act.

Maybe this someone was her, the Freudian versed little girl.


	4. Delivery

**Evidence**

**Chapter 4: Delivery**

Two weeks later, Grace had two envelopes inside her coat. She was ready to deliver them, but needed to find the perfect moment to do it.

Those stubborn people needed to see the evidence, and she could not go wrong in her strategy.

She had been paying attention to those two, since the incident at Sylvia's.

Grace must say she had been really intrigued by the following events of that night when she saw Niles and CC sleeping together: she had expected a big scene in the morning – maybe the family would find the two of them spooning, and they would have to explain what had happened; maybe they would be already up and chatting while Niles prepared some breakfast for everyone, pretending nothing had happened, but being suspiciously giddy. Either way, Grace had expected some change in the way thigs were.

Reality was confusing: when Fran woke up in the morning and nasally greeted the people in the bedroom, everybody answered – what included a surprisingly smily Niles, who was back in his assigned place on the floor.

When the family gathered in the living room, Miss Babcock was there, and she seemed happy, too.

But, more than the relaxed expressions, their way of interacting with each other was exactly the same as ever.

If Grace hadn't snapped that shot, she would have been convinced that she had dreamed all of that.

(Or that the behavior they exhibited was usual for them, what would imply they had an on-going affair or something like that, what she couldn't quite believe. In fact, she couldn't believe Niles and Miss Babcock hiding something like that, specially with Fran in the same house.

That line of thought made Grace wonder how many times they had got close like that just to pretend nothing had happened, in the next day.)

Grace thought about letting things be, once the main characters of the story didn't seem interested in changing things, but what is seen cannot be unseen, and it was clear to her how much fond of the other those two were, and that they had to be helped.

She didn't know exactly what had happened that night, but she supposed Niles had gone to lay down with Miss Babcock to warm her, and for some reason, he or they decided not to let people know it.

Grace did not agree with this state of things. She thought they should face their feelings – it is not healthy to keep certain things inside. Even more when the things you're hiding can make your life better.

That afternoon was presenting itself as the perfect moment for her delivery: she was ready to get out of the house with her father, Fran, Brighton and Maggie, thanks to one of the brunette's ideas to get Grace's father to pass time with his children (and herself).

In moments like this, Grace loved Fran not just because the nanny was teaching the family to enjoy their time together, but because sometimes her shennanigans left Niles and Miss Babcock by themselves, what the girl supposed they really needed to sort things out.

She didn't know exactly how they behaved when they were alone, but she guesses they were a bit nicer to each other. She had seen (rare) moments when they forgot about her being in the same room while bickering, and ended up sharing smiles and chuckles.

So, they acted nice when they thought they were not being observed (or got so absorved in their own affectionate bickering bubble to remember the rest of the world existed).

Her plan was to provide them with something nice to discuss while they were alone.

Grace followed Fran to the office to tell her father it was time to go out, and she managed to insert one of the envelopes among the contracts Miss Babcock was reading. Luckily, the woman excused herself and went to the solarium to stretch her muscles, probably to be out while Fran whined on her boss' ears about letting work go for a while.

The blonde's things were at the green leather sofa, and it was relatively easy to put the envelope under the first leaf of the pile – enough to hide it, not enough for it to go undiscovered for a long time.

They got out of the office quick, and Fran got the Broadway producer by the hand until they reached the door – so he couldn't escape.

The deliver to Niles was proving more difficult, because Grace didn't want to let it in the kitchen, whre it could be found and took away by any other person (namely, Miss Babcock).

When he met the family at the door to help them with their coats and see them out, the girl decided just to do it.

'Niles, I have something for you', she stayed behind and told him, almost in a whisper.

He looked at her, surprised, and acted secretive to humor her, 'Really? And what would it be?'

She took the envelope that was tuked in her coat and handed it to him, 'Here. You can open it as soon as we're out'.

He pursed his lips, taking the envelope and eyeng it especulatively, 'All right. Should I say thank you?'

'I don't know. You tell me later'.

And with that she was out of the door, hoping she had done the right thing.


	5. Opening

**Evidence**

**Chapter 5: Opening**

CC had distracted herself from the pile of contracts time enough to stretch her back and shoulders and get away from the familiar group, but got back as soon as she noticed people were out.

She just got out of the office, when Nanny Fine and the Little One entered, so she would not have to watch the predictable scene: Maxwell being reminded of how important family time was; his half-hearted excuses to stay working; the crazy arguments and the irritating whining; his satisfied agreement diguised as surrender.

At that point, it was really better that he went with them. He was useless when disturbed by guilty.

(She got a bit annoyed by the fact that Maxwell thought he could simply get away from the office to stroll around with non-business related people, while she stayed there, working; however, she would not let it mess with her. She enjoyed working, after all, and it was good to be able to do so in the office without interruptions.)

She took the pile of contracts from the sofa, smiling at the thought of finishing the one she had been reading before and going to the kitchen to pester Niles for a while. She loved the breaks she had with him, and with no one around they were always more fun.

She preferred when she didn't have to fear people finding them sharing jokes or chatting as grow ups.

And she felt more at ease about mouthing the family when she could be sure he would not contradict her harshly. When they were surely alone, he would let her vent out her criticisms. Sometimes he would even debate some points with her as if he respected her opinions and understood some of her annoyance.

Yeah, a break would do her good.

She already felt energized by the thought of talking to him, and she sat down eagerly and took the pile on her lap.

She frowned, noticing a strange new weight. There was something different among the leaves.

CC lifted the first contract and saw the envelope with _Miss Babcock _written on it.

Her heartbeat accelerated.

It was an envelope, what indicated papers of some sort.

It had her name in it.

It had been recently delivered; thus, someone in the house had done it.

She grinned in expectation – Niles had probably thought of a prank!

For some reason, the fact it envolved hiding something among her things made it seem cute.

She felt like receiving a letter or a note from him – something she could keep to herself as a memento.

She enjoyed the notion.

She put the contracts away, caressed fondly the envelope and opened it excitedly.

There was a photo, inside it, and a piece of paper.

She decided to read the paper first.

_Miss Babcock_

_I hope you don't get mad at me for doing this. I admire you very much, and I feel bad when you act like you don't care for anyone. _

_You must know you can be the great woman you are and still enjoy other people. It won't make you less intelligent or refined or successful._

_Fortunately, it seems there is someone in this house that doesn't mind your attitude, and is always there for you._

_I was in the right place, at the right time, and decided you two should have a register of such a precious moment._

_With love_

_Grace Sheffield _

Confused, CC took the photo.

It was a shot of Niles and herself, sleeping together in what seemed to be Sylvia's sofa.

And by _sleeping together_ she meant _shamelessly spooning_.

_She_ spooning Niles.

_Her_ arm around him.

_Her_ hand on his chest.

_Her_ peaceful face resting on his back.

CC felt a strange warmth spreading from her chest and reaching her cheeks.

So, that was why she had slept so well that night, after such a horrible start.

She remembered clearly that she was having a very troubled time trying to sleep, and in the middle of her slumber things got suddenly nice: she felt heated and comfortable, was able to relax and forget her disturbing thoughts.

It made no sense to feel suddenly so good, but she was too tired to even doubt it was all right: she turned to the sourse of heat, she enveloped it in her arms and felt happy as never.

She even noticed a very nice scent, and for an instant she thought she recognized it and should discover what it was, in order to buy a lifelong portion of it and keep it always close to her.

But sleep claimed her and she just held tighter and let it be.

Next morning, when she was awaken by the voices around her, she felt great and unexpectedly in a wonderful mood.

Niles was in high spirits, too, and she remembers finding it amusing that both of them would be so annoyingly happy after such a horrible night – she had slept alone in the cold; he had slept in a bedroom floor. Why were they feeling like that?

Now it made sense. They had been together.

And it had felt great.

Looking at the photo again, CC realized he was holding her hand on his chest as if he wanted to keep her there.

She had been confused by her own happy face at the arrangement, and now she was confused over his caring stance.

They fitted together, she had to admit.

_Damn._

How had this happened?!

Why had he come to help her?!

And how should she act about it, now that she had the evidence of what he had done?!

**ncncncncncnc**

Niles entered the kitchen with the envelope in his hand, analyzing it.

It had his name on the outside.

Did it mean there were others for other people?

Miss Grace was taken with the therapy thing, and maybe she had a project going on.

Maybe it was a questionary, or the results of some test he didn't even knew he was being subjected to.

He took a sit at the table and opened it carefully.

There was a photo and a small piece of paper in it.

He took the photo, first.

He could barely believe his own eyes.

It was a beautiful shot of Babcock and himself, sleeping together in Sylvia Fine's couch, two weeks prior.

He smiled foolishly at the shot, noticing how well they fitted, and how angelical her face was at the arrangement.

Well, he was not anything but relaxed in her arms, too, holding her hand to his chest.

He had to gulp down a wave of emotion. Of course he felt relaxed by being in her arms. He had been dreaming about it for a while, and he couldn't quite believe when she accepted him holding her, that night.

Yes, she was asleep; however, for some reason, he was sure she would feel instinctively repulsed by him, when she felt his touch. After so many refuses and mistreatments, he braced himself for the worst every time he tried to open up a bit to her.

That night, however, he had been blessed. She had let him be close to her.

_She_ had come to him.

He found himself caressing her face in the shot.

_Damn._

He shook his head to clear it and took the note.

_Dear Niles_

_I know you probably don't feel at easy about discussing it, but I want you to know I have observing you two and think it would be great if things worked out._

_You make each other happier, and nothing should be more important than that._

_This is my gift for the two of you._

_Good luck_

_Grace_

Niles finished reading and looked at the shot again.

Miss Grace, a perceptive and intelligent little girl who observed their interactions in a daily basis, believed they made each other happier.

_Nothing should be more important than that_, she wrote.

Niles felt a mix of hope and sadness at those words. He agreed fully, but things were not so clear all the time.

That night he could feel the rightness of the situation: it was obvious they were wonderful together, by how difficult it was for him to desintangle himself from her in the morning and suppress the urge to bestow a kiss on her face before he went back to the bedroom.

He didn't want to let go, and the small frown she sported when he got out of her arms showed him neither did her.

But he couldn't scare her and loose what they had.

Niles sighed, trying to put some order in his thoughts. His feelings were making him wish he could just get out, march into the office, show her the photo and tell her this was all the evidence they needed.

The swinging door opened, and his head snapped.

CC Babcock entered the kitchen and stopped on her tracks when she saw what he had in his hands.


	6. Confrontation

_Warning note: this gets tense before it gets better._

_Bear with me!_

**Evidence**

**Chapter 5: Confrontation**

Niles half expected CC to have an envelope in her hands, when she entered the kitchen.

She didn't.

He half expected her to say something at the sight of his.

She didn't.

She aknowledged the envelope – with a quick and ambiguous nod – and turned to her right, 'Do you have any tea?'

His heart was still beating madly by the surprise of seeing her coming to him when he was thinking of going to her; so, he put the shot and the note on the envelope, letting them plain visible on the table, and got up from his chair. He decided not to comment on her pretending those things had no importance.

She was already at the other side of the island. It was obvious she was putting a physical barrier between them, and he had to be cautious.

'I'll make it', he quietly offered.

She nodded again.

He went to put water to heat and kept throwing glances at her.

She was looking anywhere but at him, clearly disturbed.

Niles couldn't deal well with her tense silence. The usual way out, a zinger, was not coming to him, right now – he had nothing in his mind that could pass as even a light provocation. He was kind of obsessed by the situation at hand, and he knew that, if she kept silent, he would soon blurt something out.

Something he would probably regret saying.

Obviously, she kept silent.

(She was never of any help to him.)

'Have you received one of that from Miss Grace, too?', he finally asked, indicating the things on the table with a tilt of his head.

CC looked at him for a second and looked away again.

She took long moments to answer and, when she did, it was with a neutral and short, 'Yes'.

'And what did you think of it?'

(Dear God, it was like his mouth had a life of its own! )

In fact, Niles wanted to know how she _felt _about it, but he felt relieved that his brain didn't have the guts to mention feelings.

What a mental image!

(He was really nervous.)

She took even longer to answer, this time.

He thought she would pretend she hadn't heard him.

But then, she threw him an icy stare, 'What do you mean?'

He was surprised. Wasn't it clear what he meant?

Was she just trying to evade the question?

Was it so hard to her to talk about it? Then, why had she come?

Niles gulped down the knot in his throat and decided that maybe he should compromise, giving her something in which she could work on, 'I think it was sweet of her'.

She kept looking at him in silence, no visible reaction.

Again, her thinking lasted a lot of time.

Niles was getting more and more aprehensive. Her eyes said nothing to him.

He was getting restive.

The kettle whistled, and he turned to take it, glad they had something to break the moment.

He prepared the mugs and extended one of them to her.

She got a bit closer, took it and went back to her previous position, looking at the liquid in front of her.

After taking a sip, she finally said, 'Yes, it was'.

Niles grinned at her, realizing she had answered and registering it was something positive, 'Really? That's what you think?'

CC looked at him as if she didn't get the reason of his joy, frowning slightly.

He knew he had a silly grin on his face at her agreement, and realized he didn't mind that she would probably call him on that at any moment.

It was a small admission, but he felt all giddy over her when she admitted little good things about people. It made her more human, before his eyes. More accessible.

He was fond of her difficult personality, but he liked to think she had a reserved space for him, in her head: a place where she was free to let her true opinions show. Sometimes, those opinions were ominous, and sometimes, they were generous, as usual for people.

Niles was sure she just had the strenght for being that open with him, and it made him happy.

Maybe, if she asked now why he was grinning, his answer would be something along the lines _Because you are almost irresistible when you act cute._

He stirred his tea, smiling.

'Of course', CC talked again, 'It was unexpected'.

'Why? She is a very caring girl', he pondered, glad they were finally engaging in a normal-paced conversation, and eager to keep it going.

'She has been raised by Nanny Fine', she snorted, 'It 's a surprise she didn't blab'

Niles blinked at her, 'Uhm?'

'It would have been really embarrassing'.

CC looked at Niles and noticed he had lowered the hand with the mug, and was looking at her as if he hadn't understood what she was saying.

She decided to elaborate, in order to gain an obviously vehement agreement, 'If she had told everybody... I mean... What would people think? I would feel certainly abashed'.

And she fell silent when she noticed he was in shock.

'You...', he started, slowly, 'That's all you can think?', he asked, letting the confusion pour in his voice, 'That it would be _embarrassing _to share a bed with me even under those circumstances?'

She faced him, 'Who wouldn't be, in _any_ circumstances?'

He knew she meant it as a playful zinger, but he was not able to apretiate it, this moment. He was really serious, 'Can't you just think, for a moment, that people do _good _things? That Miss Grace understood you were alone in the cold, that I got worried... You have seen the photo... It was a beautiful moment... How is it all you can do is keep repeating that you would be _embarrassed _about being with me when there are a lot of more important and positive things going on?'

She looked away, bitting her bottom lip. It sounded harsh when said like that. Of course, she meant to treat the whole situation as a joke, letting aside all the parts of the story that are related to Niles and other people having consideration for her.

She had gotten out of the office when she couldn't understand it. She had come to the kitchen to _not _think about it.

She hated positive things. They went away quickly, and let you with a bad taste in the mouth. They were not worth the energy they consumed.

And she would not explain this to him.

Even if he kept looking at her as if it was obvious the next line was hers.

The silence was stretching again.

CC realized she couldn't deal with that. She had to go away.

She rested the mug on the island and started for the door, 'I'm going to the office', she informed without looking at him.

'Miss Babcock', he called after her, letting himself plead. She had her difficulties, after all, and he knew he had said some things that could put her off-balance.

He respected her for being able to function despite her troubled feelings. He just couldn't let the conversation end like that – so, he called her.

But she didn't stop. She just threw a derisive 'Not now' in the air and kept walking to the swinging door.

Niles felt like she had pushed him, hard. His mug hit the island. He had to say something, or he would explode.

'Dear God, woman, you have no idea how I hate when you do this!'

That made her stop and turn.

It sounded too different from what she was used to hear from him.

He was really... disappointed on her.

Niles supported himself on his palms, on the sink, and looked at her while he spoke, in a frightenly barely controlled voice, 'You know what your problem is? You can't be expontaneous. You can't say or do what you desire, because it requires being sincere, and you are not capable of being sincere with yourself, much less with anyone else', he pointed to his chest frantically, 'Much less with me!'

She kept looking at him, her eyes wide. She had seen him using that high-pitched voice in some situations, and it always indicated he was out of himself.

She refused to open her mouth to say a word when he was like this. She crossed her arms over her chest to make it clear.

He gulped and straightened his back, as if recovering part of his balance, 'Look at yourself right now: you're fleeing because you can't answer to me. You keep trying not to say all that is coming to your head, so you won't reveal anything that could _embarrass_ you. Can't you see it ties you to your old and misconcepted patterns of behavior?'

CC flinched slightly, still silent.

Niles gave some steps to the side, never taking his eyes off of her, 'You keep repeating destructive behavior and old beliefs, even if it makes you lonely and unhappy. No matter what I do, no matter what Miss Grace tries to shove in your face... You are incapable of changing anything, of _daring_ anything, of simply following your heart', he snorted and went to collect the things on the table, 'See what an idiot you make of me? I still believe you have a heart!', he looked at her with desilusion, 'And I keep waiting it shows...'

CC just kept quiet, again.

This time, she was at least looking at his face.

Their eyes kept locked for long moments.

One more time, they were at the verge of something, and neither of them would make a move.

Finally, she turned again her body to the swinging door, with her face still turned to him.

Niles had done the same to the back stairs.

They noticed how in sync they were, even when getting apart.

She paused with the hand at the door, a confused look on her face at the realization they were preparing to flee from the kitchen, once both were at a loss.

He put a hand on the rail and his left foot at the first step, a thorn look on his face at the fact they were giving up again.

Both turned away and exited the kitchen at the same time, not able to sustain the tension anymore.


	7. Challenge

_This is fanfiction, not the series. That's why we don't have to deal with this unresolved situation for long._

_Thanks for the reviews, people. Let's have some fun!_

**Evidence**

**Chapter 7: Challenge**

CC was furious, when she reached the office.

She wanted to get back to work and pretend that conversation never happened. It would surely be the best. That was what they usually did, and it had never gone wrong until now.

But she couldn't.

She kept walking from the table to the glass doors, like a furious animal.

There were so many things she should have told him.

(The first of all being she was not the type who goes around saying all the bullshit that comes to mind, destroying the possibility of having a nice and fun afternoon together.)

But she hadn't said anything, because the topic of conversation was delicate and she had been afraid to say too much.

Well, he was right, then. She was not able to be spontaneous around him.

(And yes, she knew she followed patterns. They made her feel safe. Especially around him. He didn't need to remind her of that.)

_Niles_ was the one who made strange unpredictable things.

_He_ had come to lay with her to keep her warm, creating the situation for the Little One to take that damned photograph and send it to them in order to stress how Niles was always there for her.

_He_ now wanted to talk about it, as if they were suddenly the psychologically healthy adults they had to be to be prepared to discuss such a thing as their twisted relationship.

And _he_ was hurt because she didn't want anyone to know about it, even if _he_ was the one who had gone away before everyone woke up – including her.

Wasn't it enough that he surprised her daily with pranks that were the most absurd things on Earth? That he kept giving her wrong directions, not telling her important information, saying her name wrong to reporters, making her cluck like a chicken, calling her a brunette...

_Oooook, get out of that line! Remembering that fateful night will not help, here._

CC stopped pacing.

Why couldn't she simply face it? What was the problem of remembering _that_ night?

_That_ kiss?

_That_ effervescence of good feelings that she felt for him daily, and that had exploded when their lips met and their bodies reacted?

_God, I'm sounding like a cross between a cheap novel and a Chemistry book._

_Oh, well, I have to admit _chemistry i_s something we have..._

CC huffed. It seemed she was craving for some good feelings, and she had turned to Niles, of all people, to give it to her.

She had to get those things out of her head.

She took a look at the contracts on the green sofa.

And to her purse, within she knew was the envelope.

She felt repulse for the workload, and desire to take another look at the photo.

She bit her bottom lip in concentration.

She had gone to the kitchen to have a break and, truth be told, she didn't have it.

It meant she needed her dose of Niles 'goodness' before she could accomplish any work, here.

If she was honest with herself, all she wanted to do right now was to seek him and have some good time, doing whatever it was they did when they had time for themselves.

And what was stopping her?

What could happen if she threw caution to the wind and just did what came into her head, as he had so not subtly suggested?

Maybe she should prove to _him_ she was able to.

(She smiled at the thought.)

Better than that: maybe she could show him that _he _was not able to be spontaneous around her.

(She grinned at that thought.)

CC walked out of the office, not wanting to prepare or plan anything (_spontaneity_ was the keyword, after all).

She stopped just by the door of the office, breathed deeply and started yelling his name to the empty corridor.

She felt like calling him in the most preposterous way possible. It would be great for, at least, breaking the ice.

And, as a bonus, it would show him she was not shaken by their previous encounter.

(Being spontaneous had the advantage of making you realize the positive points of your actions just _after_ you did them.

CC thought it was a refreshing thing.)

Niles appeared from the back of the house, almost running, 'What is it, you mad woman?! What happened?!'

She took her time to look at him.

She noticed he was not wearing his full suit – in fact, he had just some fancy pants, a white shirt, suspenders and a tie (that he was adjusting while he waited for her to answer, not noticing it made obvious he had run to her as soon as he heard her calling his name).

CC had to admit she found him very yummy, like that – a bit disheveled and anxious about her, and wearing something that showed off the shape of his torso.

Not that she would tell him...

_Well, why not?_

'You took the coat off', she commented, pointing languidly at him.

He looked at himself, confused, 'I was feeling hot', he made a face at her smirk and added, 'Because you _annoyed_ me'.

'I like it', she said sincerely, getting close enough to play with the suspenders with both her hands, showing where her focus was.

'What are you doing?', he asked, giving a startled step back to escape her.

And founding himself against the door across the office one, that was closed since the family had gone out.

'I'm accepting your challenge', CC answered, approaching enough to put one hand in the hair over his ear, 'I'm being spontaneous and saying what comes to my mind... and doing what I feel like doing, around you...', she caressed the outside of his ear, saw him flinch and said, softly, 'Stop it'.

'Stop what?', he asked, weakly, while his eyes darted nervously from her lips to her eyes, 'You're the one harassing me'.

'Was it _harassing_ what you did to me that night at the Fines'?'

'Of course not'.

'Then, this is not, either'.

'I'm not sure the circumstances are the same', he murmured.

'Why did you do that?', her hand got lower, and her fingers reached the side of his neck with feathered touches.

He felt menaced and seduced, and made an effort to say something that made sense, 'I was... trying to help'.

'Uhum… And so am I', she smiled, her hand reached the shoulder and stayed there, feeling the strength and heat in it, 'It's just another way of pointing things out. I'm using gestures, here, and what you did in the kitchen was like this – you were trying to _help_ me while saying I was not able to be sincere and spontaneous, wasn't you?'

His mouth went dry by the contact of her hand and the soft voice she was using with him. It was almost as if she had opted for being patronizing, and he felt he had to fight her the usual way, to test her decision, 'I should have known better than try to give advice to someone as hard-headed as you'.

'I didn't take it as an advice, but as a challenge', she took the suspenders off, letting them fall to his sides and palmed his chest with both hands, now that he had nowhere to escape. She went very close, 'I will prove that I can be a lot more spontaneous than you'.

Niles clenched his fists on his sides, and had to concentrate to answer her, 'That's not how it works. You can't treat it like a bet'.

'Afraid, Butler Boy?', she smirked, moving her hands in such a way that her nails grazed his chest slightly through the shirt, 'May I declare myself the winner, already?', she licked her lips at his suppressed moan and went even closer, so she could whisper in his ear, 'You're always game. Don't let me down'.

She backed off and could see he was thinking furiously, weighting the possibilities. She brought up a hand to loose the knot of his tie and brushed her fingers on his pulse point. She couldn't stop her grin when she felt the agitated beat of his heart, 'So much for spontaneity, uhm? I suppose I'll win this easily'.

'As if', he groaned, his brain process heavily affected by her bold gesture.

Niles realized his mistake as soon as the words were out, but it was too late: CC had already registered what passed as an agreement, and palmed his chest with renewed enthusiasm, 'Good boy! You'll see, we'll have fun!'

And she planted her lips firmly on his.

She just wanted to make a point about her own spontaneity, not get lost in the damn chemistry they had; so, she made an effort and gave two steps behind soon after he relaxed against her and tilted his head to increase the contact – the urge to explore his mouth menaced to take over her, and she didn't think she was ready for that, yet.

_Yet?_

He blinked at her, panting.

She was panting, too, with her hand over her heart.

_This must be dangerous_, she thought, _I don't think it's right, and still it feels damn right._

Niles gulped down and got off from the wall that, both realized, was serving him as support.

They kept looking at each other.

CC noticed Niles started to reach out for her hand.

Slowly, he raised his arm and extended it until he was able to took the hand that was not on her chest and bring it to him.

He kissed it delicately and looked at her softly, 'Just wanted you to know I'm really game'.

He lowered their hands and hesitantly let go of hers.

Both followed their joined hands with their eyes, until they separated.

Then, in sync, they locked stares again.

CC nodded seriously. She was glad she didn't have to say out loud that she knew he wouldn't let her down when their relationship was at stake. She wouldn't find her voice to do so.

Niles nodded back, and his eyes told her he understood.

She looked away, turned her body to the office door, put her chin high and gave firm quick strides to disappear from his sight.

Niles blinked at the open door, not knowing exactly what to do. There was such a myriad of feelings coursing through him that he didn't know if he should feel elated or terrified by the intensity of it.

He pulled the suspenders back and adjusted his shirt and tie, in a desperate attempt on getting in touch with reality. He was pondering over going to the kitchen to have some time alone and think; he had wished for things to get to this point between them for so long that he felt like he was just hallucinating about this.

It couldn't be real. It must be an evil plan of hers.

On the other side, he had told her he didn't believe in her ability of getting rid of her routines. He should have guessed an action like that would have consequences.

_If these are the consequences_, he thought, licking his lips and grinning as a fool, _I can't say I mind them._

Miss Babcock had approached him, touched him, kissed him – _knowing_ it was him.

The weight of the realization that she liked him to a big extent made him feel rooted to the spot.

He didn't feel ready to get out of the place where those astonishing things had happened.

Suddenly, CC came out of the office again, grabbed him by the tie and pressed another firm kiss into his lips.

And again, she made a visible effort to detach herself and give a step back, saying in an awed voice, 'God, I hope we're not doing something unholy, here'.

'Since when does it stop you?', Niles smiled fondly, happy she had come back and made clear he was not the only one craving for more, 'I really count on your expertise in the satanic field'.

She smiled at him, thankful for the well-known territory, 'You're right. But I'll tell you if you cross any line that is not permitted, even in a _spontaneity game_'.

He raised a brow, 'And I'll warn you if you do something too much out there. _Outer_ than usual, I mean'.

CC smirked, 'There is nothing I could do that would bring a reaction out of that ancient body of yours'.

'And you are not even trying?'

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came.

His lopsided grin while throwing such an innuendo at her was too delicious.

She went to him for one more kiss (this time with her hands clenching the back of his shirt, because when she realized, she was pulling him to her to feel their bodies molding together.

The temptation to deepen that kiss was getting stronger each time).

When they parted, she turned and walked away with the firm strides again, yelling just when already inside the office and out of his field of vision, 'For God sake, give me a break! I have a lot of work to do before the savages are back!'

Niles smirked and yelled back, resisting the urge to peek, 'Should I bring your tea?'

'Please, no! I can't stand the sight of you, right now!'

He grinned – she had answered _chuckling._

'Then, I'll make a pie. It will give us some time'.

'Good!', she sounded relieved, 'Thank you, Niles'.

'You're always welcome, dumpling'.

And he went for the kitchen snickering to himself when he heard her cursing.


	8. Recognition

**Evidence**

**Chapter 8: Recognition**

The Sheffields and Fran erupted in the house too early, based on their previous plans of spending the entire afternoon in the club.

The family was so loud, in fact, that both the butler and the socialite came from their respective tasks (grinning as a crazy person while reading boring contracts and singing as a maniac while cleaning after baking a pie) to see what the commotion was about.

They reached the living room and stopped side by side, smiling quickly at each other and preparing to wait for the people to stop talking all at the same time and explain what had happened.

Suddenly, Maxwell's voice raised above everyone's, 'That's enough. We'll be back there when the place is free of those creeps'.

Brighton and Margaret started saying something in protest, but Fran looked at them and they decided against it and went upstairs.

Fran turned to Maxwell as soon as the older children had gone and started what seemed to be a long diatribe about the producer learning to ignore when a boy smiled at his oldest daughter, when a man smiled at his nanny, and when anyone mentioned Andrew Lloyd Weber.

She was so engrossed in the task that she didn't even notice Grace going directly to Niles and CC and stopping close to them.

When they realized Fran was going to talk forever (there was so much to say in each separated topic), the blonds just nodded at each other and turned to the kitchen, motioning for the girl to come with them.

Arriving there, Niles pulled a chair at the table for CC, and went to pull one for Grace, 'I think my pie is ready. We should eat before Miss Fine finishes her scolding on Mister Sheffield'.

Grace noticed the happy smiles they exchanged and couldn't refrain from asking, 'Is everything all right?'

(She supposed it was, because they had been standing very close to each other, in the living room, and now were behaving nicely. If they had had a life-changing fight over her envelopes, she _hoped_ they would not behave like that.)

Both looked at her.

Niles had stopped behind CC's chair, and Grace noticed the socialite turning her head to look up at him, as if she had sensed he was consulting her.

What he was, obviously, doing.

'What do we say?', she asked him with a teasing smile.

He hesitated for a moment, but decided to put his hands on her shoulders: first, tentatively; then, seeing she relaxed under his palms, with a clear mix of affection and possessiveness.

He was trying not to grin, 'You're the one with a secret identity. You must decide what we can reveal'.

'This is going better than I thought', CC smiled at Grace, 'Can you believe he just called me Wonder Woman?'

'Hey', Niles protested, 'I didn't mention a name'.

'Exactly. And she is the closer to a secretary or businesswoman that I can think of', she saw him squinting at her and patted his hand on her left shoulder with her right one, 'Busted, Butler Boy'.

Grace smiled when she noticed the woman's hand had stayed there covering Niles', 'I don't know exactly what has happened, but I guess you were ok with my… gifts'.

CC had a soft smile on her face, 'Yes, Girl. We decided to be a bit more carefree, once you've pointed out we're here for each other'.

She talked and took her hand away from his, slowly, after a last squeeze.

It seemed to authorize Niles to go, and he went to the island to serve the pie, 'We must thank you for the… gifts, as you called them. It was already time for us to recognize we don't have to be mean to each other when it's not what we wish'.

'It's a beginning', Grace murmured.

She was answered by CC's startled stare and by Niles', 'I beg your pardon?'

'I said I'm glad, Niles', she said, grinning, 'And the pie smells great'.

'If there's one thing he is good at, is cooking', CC conceded, relieved the girl had just winked at her and changed the subject. She was surprised by Niles putting a plate in front of Grace, and stopping with hers mid-air, and protested, 'I want mine, too'.

'Well, there's a lot of things I want, myself, Blondie', Niles answered, 'Now say something nice'.

CC thought for some moments, before declaring, 'I don't totally hate Nanny Fine'.

Niles looked at her in confusion, heard Grace snickering and noticed the glint in CC's eyes. He faked indignation, 'You won't melt my heart with this. Just say something nice _about me_, or no dessert for you'.

'It's technically not dessert, once I haven't eaten anything for long…'

'Babcock…'

'Oh, all right', she smiled sweetly at him, 'I love it when you prepare my favorites. As this pie'.

It seemed to disconcert him, because he was at a lack of words and just put the plate in front of her, saying something under his breath.

'Watch out, Niles', CC said, 'I notice everything'.

'It's not fair', he pouted, going to fetch his own plate, 'It's easy when you have your own crystal ball'.

Grace saw CC smiling at his comment and said, 'You two would be an interesting study case'.

'For Freud?', Niles asked, coming back to the table and sitting in front of Grace.

'To any analyst, Freudian or not. You have this thing with bad words gaining a new meaning'.

CC turned to Niles, 'The Girl has just called us _sick_?'

He made a doubtful expression, 'I don't think she did, but it is a matter of time if you don't stop forgetting her name and acting as if she was not in the room'.

'I know her name'.

'Then, say it'.

'Why? Everybody knows it here'.

Niles looked at her in shock, 'I can't believe you said that. It must be the worst pretext ever'.

'You're just baffled because you'd never have an idea like that'.

'Of course, I woudn't. I'm not that strange'.

'The word for millionaires is _eccentric_'.

'The word _eccentric _means out of the center, in its origins – as in _not staying in conformity with the rest_. If I were to use the word for you, I'd say it as a compliment', he looked at her as if pondering on it, 'However, in your case it is not adequate, once I can't imagine anyone more _egocentric_ than you – what puts you in the center again'.

She recovered quickly from her awe by how cultured he was and how often she forgot about that, 'At least I have something to exhibit, when I'm at the center of things'.

'Good looks won't take you anywhere without a pure heart, Madam'.

'Who cares about a pure heart if I can have a dirty mind?', she smirked at him, 'And you just admitted I have the good looks that make things even more interesting'.

Niles sighed and started cutting a piece of pie with his fork, 'I don't know how you bring these things out of me'.

'Charms, obviously. You're my favorite victim'.

Niles opened his mouth to answer, but Maxwell entered the kitchen hurriedly, 'Oh, CC, _here you are_!'

The blonde looked at her partner, 'Are you finished with Nanny Fine?'

Fran entered by the swinging door and threw a glare at Maxwell that said he wasn't.

'Y-Yes, she understands we have a lot of work to do, so… Let's go?', he asked hopefully.

'Of course', CC said, but stayed where she was, 'I'll just finish the pie'.

'All of that?', Niles asked innocently, 'You know, there's no law saying we can't have leftovers'.

'You know very well we won't, with Nanny Fine here'.

'Hey!', Fran protested, 'Even I can't eat an entire pie in one sitting'.

'Yes, you can', CC contradicted calmly, 'But this is not the point. You just got stressed with Maxwell. It means you'll be calling your mother, it's highly probable she comes for an innocent visit and… well, must I finish the thought?', she pointed her fork at Niles, 'Hazel, go buy groceries – the original Wandering Jewish is coming!', and let out her sultry laugh.

Grace watched in fascination as Fran turned to her boss to say something about people mocking her problems because he didn't take her seriously…

…and Niles kept looking at Miss Babcock with a fond smile, while she got back to her pie as if there was nothing happening around her.

After some moments, Niles noticed Grace's attention on him and, for a moment, the girl thought he would do something to hide he had been staring a little too long.

But he didn't.

He grinned at Grace and it was like he was saying, _Isn't she something?_

Grace grinned back, agreeing with him silently.

And now she was convinced she had done the right thing.

In fact, she wondered how was it that people couldn't see the evidences…


	9. Reactions

_It goes slowly, people. They are not afraid, they just have no idea where they are going to. They just have _evidences_ to work with…_

**Evidence**

**Chapter 9: Reactions**

CC entered the kitchen decisively and stopped at the exact spot where the swinging door couldn't reach her if it was opened by other person.

(You learn to stay out of the way in a house with so many people wandering around. Especially when the Fine Family is included in the wandering ones.)

Niles stopped stirring some sauce and looked at her with curiosity.

'I've had my share of good will for the day, helping Maxwell to get rid of _that_', she announced matter-of-factly, making an emphatic gesture of palms turned to him, 'Don't expect me to do any other nice deed today'.

Niles smiled at her, 'Midnight is just some hours away. I can wait'. He followed her with his eyes while she approached him until she was by his side and could smell the food he had in front of him.

'Uhmmmmm', she praised his cooking and, he dared imagine, something more about being so close to him – if the way her upper body brushed his arm when she inclined was some indication.

'Will you stay for dinner?'

His mouth kept having a life of its own, so it seemed: he had just said something about seeing her at midnight, and then didn't phrase this thing about dinner as if it was a question.

She glanced at him, obviously recognizing both the innuendo and the invitation. She smirked, 'It depends on what you are preparing'.

'Mushroom risotto'.

Both smiled at that. It was one more of her favorites, 'You don't leave me an option, really'.

He nodded, 'I'm fond of not letting ways out for you', he winked at her and resumed his task.

CC stayed looking at him for a while, noticing how many meanings his phrase had because, in fact, she sometimes found it really hard to go against his wishes. He managed to make her bend, sometimes through a well placed word, sometimes by a surprising gesture...

_It wouldn't hurt if he made me bend by more _surprising words_ and more _well placed gestures_..._

Well, it was not like he had recoiled when she had got close. In fact, he resumed stirring the sauce and his arm would brush her body delicately, as if he was reaching out from time to time.

She leaned a bit more, this time on the back of his shoulder to not mess with his cooking, and started, 'I was thinking...'

'That's great', he interrupted, his voice a bit lower and softer than such a zinger would usually demand for good effect.

Anyway, she squinted at him and gave a step back.

He immediately stopped and turned his head to her, 'I mean, it's always great when brilliant magical people dedicate their time to think, so they can make a better world for us, mortals'.

She rolled her eyes at his nonsensical cover, 'That's the better you can come with?'

He looked at the pan again and resumed stirring, 'It's not my fault. I've lost my train of thought when you moved'.

She crossed her arms, annoyed, 'Oh, sorry for entering your personal space and disturbing you'.

'When you moved _away_, silly woman', he corrected, not looking at her.

'Oh', she said and immediately uncrossed her arms and came closer again. This time, she let her upper body touch his back, but managed to put his leg along with his, 'Is it better?'

He turned off the pan and relaxed, permitting their bodies to touch in such a way that was impossible to ignore the electrical charge created by the friction. He looked at her, 'Yes, it is. Now we can resume our conversation'.

'Which conversation?', she asked, letting her hand caress his back and her eyes search his face as if her there was to do just that.

Niles noticed she seemed somewhat distracted, 'You said you had been thinking. It's such a rare occasion that I suppose it was important'.

'Uhum', she murmured, savoring the opportunity to feel him against her body and to have his softest voice talking to her.

He was going to encourage her to talk, but it felt really good to be under her eyes like that, while she was almost hugging him.

_Good idea!_

He gulped down some insecurities and moved in a way that his arm passed under hers, circling her waist. That made her grounded enough to rub her calf on his.

She felt he straightened his hold on her and smirked, 'This is interesting'.

'How so?'

She seemed surprised by his question. She didn't think about it – she just said it. That was how things should be working, wasn't it?

'I don't know', she finally answered, 'It just is'.

She pecked his lips and got out from his arms, slowly, walking to her preferred spot behind the island, across from him.

Niles breathed deeply to recompose himself, noticing she had not backed away because he had in some way made her shy – she was looking at him as if she enjoyed both the _being close_ and the _waiting_ part of their game.

(He did, too, but he had been living inside it for such a long time that he didn't find it so easy to deal with, now that she was a willing participant.)

Niles decided he needed something to distract him. So, he passed by her and went to the other side of the island to pick some green leaves he needed to wash.

(If it brought her to his side again was just a side effect.)

CC had moved, too, when he moved, to take a bottle of water from the fridge, and soon was by his side to watch him prepare the leaves.

The fact the two of them were purposefully sharing the same space while easily dislocating around each other made them feel intimate again.

Niles gave some more steady breathes while CC bit her lower lip.

She felt that was a good moment to resume her previous assessment, 'I was wondering if you would take me home, if I stayed for dinner'.

He froze for a second, a million scenarios on his head for her reasons to ask: maybe she had been worried about going out so late; maybe she wanted to discuss something with him that must be done out of the mansion; maybe she wanted to pull a prank; maybe she had something for him to fix; maybe she just wanted to make him be out late, knowing he had to wake up very early in the morning...

He settled for a neutral, 'Is something the matter?'

She seemed confused by his question, 'Why do you ask?'

'I asked first'.

She was clearly annoyed, now, 'If you don't want to, just say it. You don't have to act so suspicious just to save face'.

He was slightly offended by the misunderstanding, 'I have to think of my own well-being. I don't want your pimp to think it's my fault you are not making your rounds in the usual corner'.

CC looked at him for some instants, registering the zinger, and turned to get out of the kitchen.

'Where are you going?', he asked, startled by her reaction.

'Anywhere far enough that I can't strangle you'.

Niles stayed there, looking at the swinging door after she departed.

Something didn't make sense, in this.

Realizing that it was the fact they hadn't established which was the role of the zingers in this new relationship, he put the knife on the island, dried his hands and run after her.

That conversation must not be over until they had it clear where they stood.

He reached her in the way to the office and took her by the arm to make her turn to him, 'May I count it as a defeat?'

'What?', she barked in his face.

'I threw a zinger, you didn't like it and, instead of telling me what was going on your mind, you walked away. No spontaneity; thus, you loose the round'.

'How do you dare?', she hissed and took her arm away from his grasp, 'I was trying to talk nicely to you, I even asked you to take me home after dinner, so we could have one of those conversations we had when we were allied against Nanny Fine, and you threw it all away for a tramp joke. Do you really think you're worth my time?'

He stayed looking at her for a moment, trying to discover if she was angry.

When he decided she was just frustrated, he went closer and took her by the forearms, delicately, 'Don't you feel better putting it in words?'

'I'm not sure. Maybe I should have just strangled you'.

'Next time, try it', he said, smirking at her appeased instance, because he was rubbing his thumbs on her arms.

'Why did you do that? Why did you decide the moment was perfect for an offending joke?'

'Haven't you ever wondered why our perfect moments usually involve it?', he answered, 'We say these things to each other and this keeps the conversation going, and it often turns to be the highlight of the day'.

CC seemed in awe, 'You're right…', she looked at his hands on her arms, 'I just found it strange because…'

'Because?'

She gave a step back to be out of his grasp, 'Because when we decided to be spontaneous, I thought we would be naturally nicer to each other'.

Both realized it meant when they were _evil_, they were pretending.

That was worth further reflection, but not now.

'We have been nicer', he assured her, 'Your actions, especially, brought back my faith in Humanity'.

She tilted her head at him, 'But what about you? When are you going to be nicer?'

He didn't know what he found more Babcock-ish – the fact she hadn't been surprised by being praised for competence, or that she immediately demanded something from him, 'I have been, too'.

'Oh, really?', she crossed her arms on her chest, 'Could you please point it out for me?'

Niles was a bit shy, and talked lower than she was used hearing from him, 'So many things happened today, from Miss Grace envelopes to _that_', she nodded, showing she understood he was referring to their small kisses in this same place, 'I was excited but at a loss, and I suggested the pie, and you were happy… I... just could think of making one of his favorites for dinner', he wriggled his hands, 'There's not much I can do, all of a sudden, and while at work, to be nicer…'

'And I asked you to take me home and you were not prepared for it...'

'Yeah… maybe… kinda… sorta…'

CC let a slow smile appear on her face, 'It means I win this round'.

His head snapped at her, 'I beg your pardon?'

'I surprised you with the invitation, and you reacted going back to old safe ways. I think it is way worst than walking away from the kitchen, in terms of spontaneity'.

She said and turned from him to enter the office, and Niles followed her, 'Oh, it's not. Nothing says _I can't deal with it_ more than walking away'.

They kept discussing the subject while CC picked a pile of contracts and walked to the glass doors, 'There's more than one way of walking away. Saying something unrelated with the argument at hand, for example'.

He opened the doors for her, 'It was not unrelated. _You_ and _rounds in street corners_ are never unrelated'.

She went through it and sat at the small table in the solarium, 'You're being childish, Niles. Just admit you've lost'

Niles closed the doors behind him and Maxwell and Fran, who were at the office desk by the time, kept listening to them.

'_One sure way of trying to save face in a lost argument is fighting the opponent, not his reasoning. This is considered a low blow', the butler said._

'_You're childish, Niles', the socialite repeated._

'_Am not!'_

He pouted for effect, and Fran and Maxwell were shocked to see that his expression made CC burst into laughter.

Niles grinned at her, shaking his head, '_Stop laughing at me, Babcock'._

'_You should be used to that, trying to be funny all the time'. _

'_At least, I'm funny because I'm clever, not just plain foolish'._

_You're so foolish you can't distinguish why people are laughing at you'._

_'Oh, well, you would know about being in the gray zone. Sex changes surgeries were not that well done in the Dark Ages, and we still can see you're not really a woman...'_

_'Come closer, so I can show you how much of a woman I am'._

'CC! Niles!', Maxwell bellowed from the office.

(Fran didn't know if her boss had seen the same she had, but she was really surprised by the show. First, because their words were as hard as their worst arguments and, to an outsider, suggested the edge of physical violence or suing;

Second, they were grinning at each other all the time.

That, she was sure Maxwell had noticed, or he wouldn't have interrupted them.

What Fran was not sure he had seen was that the '_Come closer' _from CC was said with a _come hither _look.

And were following Niles' quite heated glance over her body at his '_not really a woman' _zinger.)

They immediately came inside, sensing the urgency of the producer's yell, 'Yes?'

'Aren't you forgetting something?'

They exchanged glances, 'What?'

'I'll help you', Maxwell said, hiding partially his annoyance, 'What are you supposed to be doing, now?'

Niles looked in the general direction of the kitchen, saying, 'I had started dinner...'

At the same time, CC pointed to the small table at the solarium, 'I had to read those contracts...'

'And what _were_ you doing?'

They looked at him, then at each other, and then both said, 'Oh'.

'Exactly', Maxwell said, and Fran had to suppress an urge to kiss him, because he was really cute when trying to reason with people.

CC turned to Niles, 'Well, you better go. Just make the best dinner ever and maybe I can forgive your slip'.

'I'd like to discuss it further', Niles said with a smirk, 'Later'.

For a moment, she just stayed frozen in shock. Then, finally registering what he was proposing…

(… and resisting the urge to point out how slow he had been to answer to her question…)

… she managed to make a businesslike face, 'All right. I'll make sure to have the time for it, _after_ dinner'.

'You better'.

'Good. Now go'.

And, for a moment, they almost leaned into each other for a good bye kiss.

Fortunately, they caught themselves before they did it, and Niles just excused himself and exited.

And CC warned the people who stayed, 'I'll be reading the contracts outside, if you need me, Maxwell'.

'_Does he ever?'_, Niles yelled from the corridor.

She would have answered, but a glare from her partner (and an amused stare from Nanny Fine) were enough to make her retreat.

Obviously, she had to go hurriedly to the office door and yell back, 'Whatever, Bell Boy!', before going calmly to the solarium.

_Well, if this is not the craziest thing?_, Fran thought.

She was used to the harsh words, and sometimes she wondered if they were what they seemed to be, between those two.

Curiously, this time they clearly were exactly what they seemed to be: sexual innuendo and flirting barely disguised as offense.

_Well, if this is not the craziest thing?_, Fran thought, again.

And decided she would observe those two with more attention, from now on.


	10. Closeness

_Sorry for the delay, people. I couldn't check things as many times as I usually do, but I had to publish the chapter before you all forgot what this story was about (;D)._

**Evidence**

**Chapter 10: Closeness**

Niles entered his room, threw himself in bed, and pressed his face on the pillow.

He was trying to maintain some control and not yell by pure joy.

(It was already ridiculous enough he had been dancing all along the corridor to his room.)

But it was very difficult not to feel like he was slowly but surely opening the gates of paradise, after a night like that.

**Ncncncncncnc**

For starters, Miss Babcock had dined with the family and she had been absolutely lovely.

Well, _lovely _for her standards: she had mocked Miss Fine, said something unintentionally shocking to Maxwell and the children, threw some light insults Niles' way and seemed to be enjoying herself so tremendously that, at some point, everybody was smiling at her.

People had realized her acts were just funny routines, and they were not _laughing_ at her – they were _smiling_ at her.

It made a huge difference, and Niles felt warmed all over by the thought that she could be going through a really good phase; one that would make her feel happier and show to the world how interesting she was.

And, if Babcock was going to feel better about herself, he obviously would.

(Not that he didn't feel good about her in a daily basis. He enjoyed way too much her nasty ways. The surprise was how the appreciation of others mattered to him.

Not appreciation for him, but for her, of all people.

It was kind of a shock to Niles to realize he didn't mind being the butler, tonight and forever, if maintaining his usual role meant he was able to see her growing up and blossoming.

He tried to rationalize the feeling, justifying it by the fact he liked being generous, and that a better Babcock would make the whole household happier...

However, being generous to _her_ gave him an unexpected satisfaction, he had to admit.)

After dinner, people made small conversation and soon the family was ready to retire.

The blonde asked if _Hazel_ could take her home, once it was so late.

Mister Sheffield didn't mind, Fran threw Niles and CC a look that promised an interrogation, and they departed kind of in a hurry.

Well, _kind of_.

Niles was helping Miss Babcock with her coat, at the door, and talking to Maxwell Sheffield, 'Sir, I'd like to ask you something'.

'Yes, Old Man. What is it?'

'I just wanted to warn you that I may act queer, tomorrow…'

'Here he comes with that word again', Fran commented, 'Last time, you meant _sick_'.

'This time, I mean _weird_', he eyed his companion while he put his own coat, 'as in _possessed_…'

'Come on, Tidy Bowl', CC squinted at him, 'It's getting late'.

'She's anxious to include me in her nightly rituals, so it seems', Niles gave Maxwell a meaningful look, 'If I act strange tomorrow, Sir, don't hesitate – call the authorities'.

'You mean, the _experts', _CC grinned, 'The Police has no power over me'. Noticing the fond look she was sharing with Niles, she changed her expression to a bossy one and tilted her head towards the door, 'Do what you were trained for'.

Niles rolled his eyes at her bossy ways and went to the door to open it for her, 'I hope you plan on turning on the charms sometime, or it will prove to be a very difficult ride'.

Maxwell and Fran never heard her answer, because CC pulled Niles by the arm when she passed by him and through the door.

**Ncncncncncnc**

They took the town car and the conversation went around how the producer and the nanny were not as witty or quick-minded as they should be – a topic both enjoyed, specially because it served to point out the similarities they shared.

Arriving at the penthouse, Niles couldn't say he was surprised when CC invited him to stay for a while. They were having a wonderful time, after all.

She offered to make them some tea, and they started talking about the next Sheffield-Babcock production, and how they had been preparing a backers' party, and that there would be dancing.

And then she surprised him, declaring with an annoyed face, 'I hate my dance moves'.

'Really?'

'You must have noticed I'm not exactly an expert'.

'I enjoy dancing with you', he said, 'I find the hooves easy to deflect'.

She rolled her eyes, 'It's not that bad when I'm with you, because you are an annoyingly amazing dancer. Just you can compensate for my lack of rhythm'.

(Niles didn't like her lack of confidence, but he had to contain a smile by her saying he had the skills to complete her in any way.)

Yes, he had noticed she was not an amazing dancer, but he didn't think she was that bad, 'Don't say it. If you were so terrible, we wouldn't be so great dancing partners'.

CC nodded in agreement, and mused, 'Why do you think we manage well in the dancing floor? Don't you find it strange?'

He sipped his tea, 'I think it's natural. You feel comfortable dancing with me because we know each other very well, and this is decisive to moving together'.

She made a doubtful face, 'I know Maxwell, too, and I don't feel so at easy while dancing with him'.

'You don't know him as you know me. I'm talking about the _skin _level'.

(Aaaaaand there his mouth goes again blurting things out...)

Again, she surprised him, tilting her head in thought, 'Oh... Do you really think it's about it?'

'Of course', he said, masking his relief in a tone of sureness.

They stood quiet for a while, sipping their teas and feeling comfortable with each other.

Suddenly, Niles got a bit agitated, 'But, tell me... You do like dancing? Or I have been torturing you without even knowing it, all of these years?'

CC let out a small smile before she could prevent it. He had sounded worried. 'Well... The first time we danced, at a backer's party... Sara was alive, she was very gracious, and I have resigned myself to be always the second best to everything. Maxwell was the boss in the business, Sara was the graceful one in the house, you were the Master of the kitchen', she winked at him, 'Then you came to me and you made me feel less self conscious...'

She stopped for a moment to choose the words, and noticed he had his eyes glued to her.

'I still feel really tense while dancing, but you made me relax since that first time because... I thought you were going to do something horrible to me, and then I realized it was _you_, and I could never foresee every possibility you could come with... So I said – _To Hell with it!_, and decided I would just enjoy it while it lasted. Fortunately, while we are dancing you have been in your best behavior, since then'.

For some moments, Niles just kept looking at her as if he needed time to process the information that she had decided to trust him while dancing. He thanked himself from the past, for being nice to her and stablishing that connection.

Obviously, he had to tease, 'So... It seems you just stopped thinking and let go... It was a first for the spontaneity thing, then'.

She put a hand mockingly on her forehead, 'Dear... Did I just give you evidence that you introduced me to spontaneity years ago?'

'I think so', he chuckled, then turned serious, 'And I can promise not to mention it again, if you promise not to rub my slip of today in my face, in the future'.

CC smirked, putting the mug in front of her lips to hide a smile at the soft look on his face, 'It seems a good exchange'.

They clinked their mugs and sipped, both relieved they had found a way to deal with their somewhat tense misunderstanding from earlier.

'What if you had ideal circumstances?'

'You may not believe it, Niles, but I don't read minds. _Ideal circumstances_ for what?'

'For dancing. Supposed it was with me, with no one else around. Do you think you would enjoy it?'

'I already admitted I enjoy dancing with you. I don't see the point of your question'.

'Ok, I'll rephrase: do you think that under the ideal circumstances that I described, even if it is an activity that makes you generally all tense, you could feel incredibly _elated_ by dancing?'

She laughed and conceeded the point, 'Yeah, probably'.

'Then, let's do it!', he put his mug on her center table and got up.

Niles went to her stereo, searched through radio stations and stopped at the first chords of Spice Girls' _Too Much_, 'Let's try this one'.

CC hesitated when he made his proposition, but then she realized he was really happy to be the guy who made her enjoy dancing, and that he wanted to do just that, right now...

… and she found his willingness endearing.

She got up as soon as he turned to her, grinning, after taking the center table carefully to the side. He positioned himself in the classic dancing position, his right hand in the air, his left one by the height of her waist.

She rolled her eyes, put her own mug besides his and went to his arms, putting her right hand on his left one, and pousing her left hand on his shoulder.

She noticed his giddiness, and squinted at him, 'Brace yourself, Butler Boy'.

'For what?', he asked.

'The dancing. It's not going to work'.

'I don't understand. It's already working'.

'How is it?'

'You're in my arms, I'm moving slowly and feeling good about it. You're not totally into it yet, but if you move your hips just a bit more, you can take me to heaven, baby'.

She laughed, taking her hand from his to support both her arms on his shoulders, 'Dear God, I hope this is not how you manage your sexual encounters'.

Niles grinned at her zinger and because she had found a comfortable position that brought her closer to him. He put his now free hand on her waist, holding her, 'Liked the parallel? I can do it again and again and again...'

Now she chuckled, 'All night through?'

He pressed his hands a bit on her waist, suggesting silently the rhythm, and got closer enough to talk into her ear, 'Just like this, darling. Yeah, move those hips for me'.

She just hummed into his shoulder, delighted by his voice and his humor.

He felt bold, so he kissed her lobe lightly and went on, 'Can you feel my hand?'

'Which one, lover?', she asked, playing along, 'Should I be worried?'

'Just feel it', he murmured back, and started moving his left hand slowly from her waistline to the small of her back.

She paid attention, and noticed how his fingers grazed the edge of her blouse and settled in a caress, 'Yeah, I can feel it'.

'Is it good?'

'Uhum'.

His hand moved again, this time by the line of her spine, up and down, slowly.

CC closed her eyes and pulled him to her with her arms, linking her hands behind his head, 'That's... great'.

They kept swaying for a while, enjoying the song and the small meaningful gestures (her forehead resting on his temple, the hand on her waist playing delicately with the skin he could reach between the blouse and the pants), until he murmured, 'That's the kind of thing you should be paying attention to'.

'Uhm?', she asked, not changing her stance.

'People who thinks dancing is difficult often focus on their feet. When we're dancing like this, so close and touching, our feet should be the last thing in mind', he backed off slightly to look at her, 'However, if you have a foot fetish...'

'I don't, relax', she chuckled, 'I like the idea of people kissing my feet just metaphorically'.

He smiled at the notion she was telling him to relax when the subject was her fetishes, as if he would have to deal with them soon.

Gloria Gaynor's _Be soft with me tonight _started, and CC took her arms from Niles' shoulders.

Thinking she was going to put an end in the dancing, he stopped, but she just adjusted her body to reverse their positions, putting his arms over her shoulders and her hands on his waist. She brought him to her again, 'This is so good, baby. Don't stop'.

He chuckled, happy she couldn't see his face at her endearment, 'I see we're back to the ambiguous talking'.

'Yes. I'm feeling adventurous'.

His heart was beating furiously in antecipation, 'Care to explain?'

'I want to try a new position', she spoke with a lowered voice in his ear, 'This way I can feel you moving under my hands'.

Niles enjoyed the idea immensely and was ready to comment on it, but he was just able to gasp, because her hands went from his waist to the sides of his hips, _under_ the coat he was still wearing.

'Is this ok?', she asked, not stopping her now relaxed swaying, but attentive of his reaction.

'Yes, it is...', he sighed, breathing normally again.

'Did I surprise you?'

'You often do. And I like it', he lowered his own voice, 'Just keep it going'.

She smiled, 'Sure'.

They kept dancing. Niles noticed CC, while swaying, had moved in a way that made her seem a bit shorter than him.

It was as if she was positioning herself to... what, exactly?

He felt her hands tortuosly going lower, starting by his hips.

They reached the front of his thighs and stayed there, caressing him.

Niles' heart was beating madly at the feelings she was arousing in him. She was exploring his body with a tenderness that would be unexpected if it was not by how much he had been noticing the changing that was happening in her.

The only bad thing about this situation was the fact he could feel the blood pumping to places a gentleman should not put in evidence for a lady. At least, not in a stage of their relationship when he wanted to follow her pace and show the same geltleness she was showing him.

It went through his mind that the same situation could be tender and sexy, and that being in love was basically finding someone who could arouse the best in you and _arouse_ you, and he felt slightly unbalanced by the idea that CC Babcock was making him think of _love_, but he couldn't quite organize his thoughts, now.

Her hands had moved to the side of his thighs.

He closed his eyes and licked his lips.

(It was playing _Cool Cat_, now, and Freddy Mercury's voice singing _Messing with the beat of my heart _could never be a more perfect soundtrack for an occasion.)

Niles felt the hands sneaking under his coat, reaching slowly around, and he stopped breathing.

She was not doing it, was she?

Yes, she was.

Her hands reached his rear and stayed there, palming him and feeling every move he made, as she said she wanted to.

Niles' knew his arousal was very evident, now, but he couldn't prevent it. He could just moan in pleasure.

He heard her letting out that low chuckle he found incredibly seductive and he grinded against her.

For a second, he thought she would push him away.

'Yeah', she moaned, grabbing his butt forcefully, 'Do it again'.

He grinded on her one more time, being helped by her moves to mold against him, this time.

Both breathed deeply into each other.

Marvelling at her scent, Niles kissed the side of her neck.

CC retributed planting her lips on his jaw and tasting his skin for some moments.

Fortunately for their desire to maintain the slow pace, she trembled and gave a tiny step back just in time for Billy Idol's _Eyes without a face _start and give them a reason for less intimate dance moves.

Every time they separated a bit more for her to swirl (a daring move for someone who declared herself so self conscious), she threw glances to his middle and seemed very proud of the still obvious reaction she had provoked in him.

Not totally comfortable with her smirk, Niles brought her to him at the bridge of the song (the _rocky _part), so they could touch loosely by their middles, his left arm around her waist. Of course, it was not bad that this new position took him out of her glance, but brought them closer again.

The song resumed the stance of the first part, and CC brought her hands to the original position on Niles' shoulders.

CC had the face of a woman who just had an epiphany, 'It _is_ about relaxing, really'.

Niles smiled at her, 'I'm glad you feel confident enough to relax like this with me', he raised a brow, 'I have never been the ideal partner to burst your self image'.

She shook her head, 'You notice me, Niles. The way you express it is a bit kinky, but I have learned to deal with it'.

'_Kinky_?', now both brows went up.

'Forget it', she waved a hand, 'I think all the dancing has messed with my head'.

'_I_ mess with your head'.

She bit her lip at his loapsided grin, and then lowered her voice, 'Whatever you say, once you keep doing that'.

They laughed and kept swaying. They were cooling down a bit and just enjoying the delicate beat of Minnie Riperton's _Loving You._

CC changed the position again, bringing one of her hands to take one of Niles' and keep it to her chest. She murmured, 'You were right. I'm elated'.

He used his thumb to caress the hand in his, touched by the tenderness of her gesture, 'Dancing is about feeling good. People who really like you will enjoy it with you, not because you're doing it right, but because you feel good about doing it'.

'Ha-ha', she mocked him.

'What?'

'You're saying you like me'.

'I was speaking generically', he pouted.

'Yeah'.

She couldn't decide if she was going to insist and extract a confession, but the radio announced the time and both realized it was late and he should go back to the mansion.

Niles got out of her arms relutantly and turned off the stereo.

CC called him _Cinderella _and went with him to the door.

And dear God, she had kissed him again, that same enticing way with mouths closed, lips desperately pressed against lips...

… and, this time, with her hands squeezing his butt and bringing him impossibly closer.

**Ncncncncncnc**

To complete his perfect night, Niles managed to escape Fran's questioning.

(She was an amateur if she thought he was going to enter by the front door when he knew she would be waiting for him at the sofa...)

He felt like he had gone crazy: all he and Miss Babcock had been doing was touching, and he felt like he had never been so close to anyone else.

Niles had spent years fantasizing about CC Babcock, and now he was slowly getting closer to her, and he felt like he was going to explode, and at the same time this slow approximation was as delicious as their bizarre relationship, and...

He should take a shower to calm down and relax, but he wouldn't do it tonight. Not if he could sleep with her scent all over him.

And his own scent mingled with hers, because there was no way he could sleep without doing something he was sure he would have to do from now on, every time she touched him like that.

**Ncncnncncnc**

CC was going through the same, in the penthouse.

She couldn't stop smiling; she couldn't stop the arousal while feeling his ligering scent in her; she couldn't deny herself the pleaure of fantazysing about him and touching herself.

She had never felt something like this. It was like being a teen again, falling in love with a guy, but _without_ all the bad parts: the feeling of not being enough; the sensation of being invisible to him; the craving for a touch that would never come.

It was quite refreshing, after só many years thinking Maxwell was the kind of goal she had to accomplish.

Niles made her feel comfortable enough with herself that she would claim him when she wanted, being sure he would reciprocate.

It was clear he couldn't help feeling attracted to this thing they had between them.

She obviously couldn't, either.

It was so delicious she just wanted to make it slow, noticing the evidences scattered through their closeness.

And, especially, never stopping.

She was too excited to stop now.


	11. Touching

_Hi, people. I'm really sorry for the delay – again. My internet was out with no explanation, and I just managed to do something effective about it almost one week later…_

_I must thank you for the lovely reviews. You've been really nice!_

**Evidence**

**Chapter 11: Touching**

Fran entered the kitchen earlier than usual.

Niles didn't stop preparing breakfast. He knew she got out of bed so early in two occasions: when her mother was coming over with some bizarre urgency (what would put Fran to the front door, at this unholy time) and when she had something pressing to discuss with him before the family appeared for breakfast (what he believed had brought her that morning).

He was curious to see how she would approach the subject.

The brunette stopped at the island in all fluffy robe glory and demanded, crossing her arms, 'So?'

The butler stopped making pancakes for a moment and looked up, 'Good morning to you too, Miss Fine', he grinned in an exaggerated sweet way, 'Should I ask _So what_?'

She didn't miss a beat and kept a serious face, 'What time was it when you came home, last night?'

He looked into space as if confused, 'Gee... Does it mean we're married?', he wriggled his brows at her, 'Isn't it sad that I have amnesia over our nocturnal activities?'

The nanny put her hands on her hips and squinted at him, 'Don't even try to be funny, Mister. You said we should keep an eye on you, and that's what I'm doing'.

He resumed his task, wondering how was it that he really liked Miss Fine, but her non-nonsense attitude didn't have half the effect on him the same had when it came from Babcock. The realization made him smile, 'So, you think I'm acting _queer_'.

Fran counted on her fingers, 'You got out with Miss Babcock, I didn't see you coming back and now you're smiling at yourself while we talk about it. _You_ tell me'.

Niles had the deer in the headlights look for a moment, then hurried to hide it and cleared his throat, 'I was home at an acceptable time. And there was nothing conspicuous about my visit to Miss Babcock's environment'.

'Oh, Niles!', Fran pleaded, 'Can't you see?! You're using big words! With me!'

He frowned, 'What are we exactly discussing here? I mean, besides your pretended inability to understand complex vocabulary?'

He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes and calmed down a bit, 'I'm just worried, Sweetie. I've seen you being nicer to each other and I don't get it. I'm afraid she's setting you up'.

The butler looked at his friend, knowing he would feel the same if he was not the one inside the situation.

(Sometimes he still doubted his own senses and memory – how could it be that he felt so safe with the Witch, after so many years of teasing? How was it that an argument over photographs had become these interactions he had discovered he lived for?)

Niles decided to put Fran in peace, while arranging some food in a tray, 'There's nothing to worry about. We're just acting a bit less childish around each other, after being mean for so much time. Everything gets old, even the funnier things. We reached a point where we just got over it, and... You're not buying it, are you?'

'Not a word'.

Niles sighed deeply, giving up, 'I don't know what is happening, either. What I know is that we tried to get along, and it went very well, and it seems we both have no sense, because we keep doing it, even if we don't have any idea where it's taking us…'

'You talk as if you thought it was dangerous'.

He shook his head, 'It's strange. It's new. Maybe it's risky…', Niles shrugged and took the tray, 'And that's enough for now. I'm not ready to deal with that'.

Fran was going to complain, but gave up and kept the swinging door open for him, 'Oh, all right, I can't discuss anything when you're hiding behind fresh made pancakes'.

He passed by her, thanked and started putting things on the main table, 'Maybe your mood would be better if you had gone to bed earlier'.

'I could have done so if you had come home early, so we could chat...'

'You waited for me at the living room sofa because you wanted to'.

'Oh, men! You keep awake, waiting for them, and all you get back is a _I didn't ask you to_…', she stopped talking, her eyes grew large and she pointed an accusatory finger at him, 'You knew I'd be there! You sneaked by the back door!'

'Yes', he grinned and waved, going back to the kitchen, 'And thank you again'.

'We'll discuss it after breakfast...', she yelled at him from the open door, that she was holding again.

'I have to buy groceries. Maybe later', Niles came back to the dining room, 'Good morning, Sir!'

Maxwell had just entered the room, 'Good morning, Old Man. Miss Fine, you're up early. Decided to help the Yenta Central to dish?'

Fran made a face at the smirking businessman, 'Yeah, I had things to sort out', she threw Niles' way.

'Ah', Maxwell started folding his napkin, 'And did you get to do it?'

She had a self-assured smile, 'No. But I won't give up. It's a question of time'.

'And annoying insistence', the butler muttered from the serving table.

'What was that, Niles?', the producer asked, already opening the newspaper.

The butler turned, smiling at Fran, 'Nothing, Sir. I was just commenting on Miss Fine's endurance'.

The brunette stuck out her tongue at him.

'Yes, right', their boss murmured back, not seeing their exchange, 'Oh, before I forget, Old Man: CC called me to say she was going directly to the theatre. She wanted me to warn you she will be here at the end of the day'.

'She wanted you to warn Niles about the time she's coming?', Fran commented maliciously and looked at Niles, 'Why would she be so nice as to prevent him?'

'She said something about Niles getting all pesky when he didn't know if he had to cook for her', Maxwell explained, not even taking his eyes from the news.

'Oooooooh, I seee-ee', Fran sing-songed.

The high-pitched sound made the dark-haired man to look at his employees, 'What?'

Fran was giddy at finally getting his attention, 'Don't you think it's strange that she would mind if Niles got pesky or not?'

'I confess I prefer not to even try to understand them, anymore. She asked me to deliver the message, and so I did'.

'But what if it's part of a practical joke? Maybe she's setting him up. Don't you mind being used like that?'

Maxwell looked at his butler in time to see him squirming, and got worried, 'Niles, I had never thought of it... Do you think I should be concerned…?'

The butler came to serve his boss, 'It may sound surprising, Sir, but I think Miss Babcock has some sense in her. She knows that I must be warned about her presence, so I can prepare enough food', he straightened and went to serve Fran, 'I think the witch was just thinking of the quality of the service. What would we do if Miss Babcock and Sylvia came here by surprise at the same time? I have palpitations at the thought of it'.

'You didn't have to bring my family in this', Fran said and then smirked, 'But, once you did, I must ask: how is it you've known my mother for four years and you call her by her first name, while you know Miss Babcock for God knows how much time and still call her by her business name?'

Niles turned to the serving table to make a plate for her and went quiet for a moment. He had thought about it, but none of his honest answers could be said out loud.

(They all involved how comfortable he was about fantasizing with _Miss Babcock_, because he thought her public persona was the sexier thing he knew, and how uncomfortable he was when he fantasized about _CC_, because it made him all emotional and he still didn't know if he had the strength to face those feelings.)

Well, he could declare his reasons in a way that would not do any harm. So, he turned and placed the plate in front of her, 'I just think the business name really suits her strong personality'.

Fran didn't answer, and Niles went back to his position behind his boss, glad the subject was over, and starting to plan his day, now that he knew Babcock would be there just late in the afternoon.

'I still don't get it', Fran's voice surprised him, 'but I have to admit: it's kind of sweet when a guy smiles like this at a subject like _her_'.

Maxwell looked at her, 'Who, Miss Fine?'

Niles just stared at her, startled by the way she had read him, and a bit afraid that she would tell him on to the Broadway producer.

The Jewish woman smiled at both of them, 'Nothing. I was just musing about something. Tell me, Mister Sheffield, what are the plans for the day?'

Niles breathed in relief. He had tried to tease Miss Fine, but his friend was a very perceptive person. The evidences were too much already, and he had to be more careful if he wanted to preserve the precious thing he had with Babcock from the Queen's curious mind.

**ncncncncncnc**

CC Babcock had to go directly to the theater that morning, to her chagrin, and she was just able to get to the mansion in the beginning of the night.

She arrived tired, angry and frustrated, and couldn't think of any other thing than executing a very simple plan: to make a report to her partner about how the people of their play were stupid, for almost infinite reasons; to have a relaxing banter with Niles; to go home and try to forget the nightmarish day.

However, the butler himself took the door when she rang, and every reasonable plan went away.

(Of course, she had rung to make sure he knew she had arrived, but she couldn't guess how this would change her previous plan – the one she had considered the only safe possibility.)

He greeted her politely, throwing her a glance that made clear he noticed she was not in the mood.

She wanted to say something about her day, but he raised a hand, 'Why don't you come to the kitchen once you're done in the office? I have something for you'.

And he turned around and left.

And now, here she was, getting out of the office after throwing on Maxwell all of her frustration and annoyance, and not offering a single solution.

(Phase one in the process of saving a horrible day: venting out her business annoyance on Maxwell, who had spent the day comfortably at home while she dealt with such stupid people.

Completed.

Phase two: having some good times with Niles in the kitchen.

Going!)

CC walked to the kitchen in firm and quick strides, feeling already the tingling of meeting the man that kept preventing her from concentrating.

When she entered, there he was at the small table, a newspaper open in front of him.

He raised his head and kept staring at her.

They grinned at each other.

They had obviously _missed_ each other.

'I hope your promise was not related to show me you finally can read', CC commented, breaking the moment and going to take some water from the fridge.

(She still couldn't deal very well with this sincerity/good feelings/tenderness combo they were living in.)

Niles got up, folding the newspaper and adjusting his tie, 'I was not trying to impress you. I just was not able to read it in the morning. I went out to buy some things'.

When she turned to him, ready to say how little she cared about what he usually did with his spare time (and not referring to the newspaper, but to the groceries), she saw what he was doing and stopped, mesmerized.

He was at the island and had, in front of him, some chocolate sauce and a selection of grapes and strawberries beautifully arranged in a big plate.

And his smile said he was ready to feed some of them to her.

She came walking slowly to the island, occupying the place across from him. She felt the need to keep some distance – she still quite didn't believe that was for her and, at the same time, she was drawn to the possibility of it.

He noticed her hesitation, 'I guessed you could enjoy some sweetness in you, now and then', he took a strawberry with his hand, showed it to her and added, 'But I can't imagine anything more delicious than the mix of bitter and sweet'.

'You are for the strong tastes, then', she leaned on the island, turned to him.

Both had the sensation she was offering herself, and both licked their lips at the thought.

'You have no idea', Niles said, rolled the fruit on the chocolate and extended it to her.

CC looked at the offer, at his face, shook her head, said 'No', and straightened herself.

Niles lowered his hand, feeling like he had been crushed.

Last night, he couldn't sleep, even after he had been tired of reviewing their dancing meeting from earlier; even after he had fantasized about every possibility that teasing offered… He just managed to relax and rest when he had the idea of buying something delicious to feed her and make her feel cared.

It seemed he had missed the mark.

He hung down his head, not able to meet her stare.

He saw, by his peripheral vision, that the blonde had started walking.

She circled the island and stopped at the side that was closer to the kitchen table…

(Closer _to him_, Niles noticed)

… and said, 'No, I still have no idea'.

'What?', he looked at her, confused and hopeful.

'You said I had no idea how much you like the strong tastes', she looked him up and down, 'And I agree, because I don't know much about you, in fact'.

His confidence came back, and with it his smile, 'Will you let me show you something, or you'll keep wandering around and trying to hypnotize me with your moves?'

She lowered her tone, 'Do you have any problems with me _moving_?'

Niles raised his hand with the strawberry slowly to her, 'Not when I'm sure you'll _come_ to me'.

They giggled at that, and she leaned slightly on the island, supporting herself on her hip, to accept the strawberry covered in the chocolate.

He observed, enchanted, that she nipped at the fruit delicately, biting the tip, and then came back for more, with her lips grazing his fingers every time.

'Is this good?', he asked, hearing the trembling in his own voice while he watched her licking her lips.

'Uhum'.

'Let's try another one', he murmured, selecting a grape, 'I don't want you to get bored'.

'I would be really exigent if I were to get bored so quickly'.

This time she took the fruit all at once, and Niles' heart went mad. He shivered.

'I can make sure _we_ won't get bored', she smirked at his reaction.

'Yes, I know you can', he admitted, 'But I don't want to take any risks by not doing my part'.

He was reaching out to choose another fruit, but she put her hand on his, 'And how would you feel if it was about _you_?'

'What do you mean?'

CC extended a hand and took a strawberry herself, rolling it in the chocolate. Then, she extended it to him, 'I said I know almost nothing about you. Why don't you really show me something, too?'

Being the clever man he was, Niles understood exactly what she had in mind, and he didn't disappoint her: he leaned his head and took the strawberry with his lips, while looking at her in the eyes.

Then, he closed his eyes and savored the taste of fruit and her from her fingers.

And she felt all hot at the way his lips and (almost not there) tongue touched her.

And she felt a pressing thing in her heart, a mix of tenderness and arousal, at the idea of his eyes closed with pleasure while his lips touched her.

When he heard her gasp, he opened his eyes, still teased with a slight nip at her fingers, and drew back, 'I don't mind being exposed if the reason is fair', he looked down at the island, a bit shy for the things he knew he couldn't help but saying, 'And this thing between us is the fairest of all things I have ever felt'.

When she didn't answer, Niles looked at her to see what had happened, and was surprised.

She was looking at his lips, and at the chocolate, and she seemed not to know what to do.

Suddenly, Niles realized she was imagining that chocolate _on him_. That she was pondering over the possibility of letting go and simply come to him.

He gulped, not knowing what to do, either.

He wanted her to want him, but he had no idea how they should deal with all that desire.

Spontaneity dictated he should do everything without really thinking, but he couldn't move.

The tension was delicious, and was stretching, what made it even more intense.

It was like they were very close to the point of no return, and neither of them wanted to give the next step.

And, at the same time, it was almost intolerable not to give the said step.

The intercom went on, '_Niles, is CC there?'_

Maxwell's voice brought them out of the reverie, and Niles looked at the machine on the wall as if he didn't know how it worked.

'_Old Man, are _you_ there?'_

Fortunately, the businesswoman still had something of her mind with her. She walked to the intercom and pressed the button, 'I'm here, Maxwell. What do you want?'

She had sounded annoyed, but her partner didn't notice, _'Oh, great. I have some doubts over the things you told me, and I would like to clarify them as soon as possible. Would you come here in the office for a moment? I thought you had gone home, but we're lucky you're still here'._

'Going', she answered curtly and turned the thing off.

CC groaned at herself about how she had never said she was going home, and how that man never paid attention.

Her stare went to Niles, and she realized he was lost, and she knew exactly why..

There was no way to know where they stood, in this: they were close, Niles was making her relax after a horrible day, they were having a good time, with sexiness and understanding; but Maxwell called her, and she was going, even if he annoyed her, because she felt like she had to.

If it was hard on CC, who couldn't decide how she felt about the usual things, she could barely understand how it was for Niles, who had to witness her being torn between his niceties and an infuriating Maxwell.

She looked him in the eye, trying to sound the more regretful she could, 'Thank you for the offering. It was really nice of you to do something like that for me. I was needing it'.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak, 'Maybe we could... try it again. Another time'.

'I don't know…'

'You... don't?'

'Do you think we can stand any more of these interruptions?'

He smiled and gave one step into her direction.

She smiled back and stepped closer, too.

'Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we were not interrupted', Niles whispered.

'Sometimes I _fantasize_ about it', CC grinned.

The butler opened his mouth as if to speak, but the intercom sounded again, '_CC? Is there any problem?_'

'You can bet there is', she groaned at it and went to the swinging door, 'Think of what I've told you, Butler Boy. See you later!'

When she disappeared, Niles went to the intercom, pressed the button to inform his boss of her imminent arrival and 'forgot' to press it again.

He needed to hear her voice, now. He was not ready for the loss, after she said she fantasized about being with him.

_With no interruptions._

She went away asking him to think about it…

As if she needed to ask!

However, the fact she had asked made things sexier…

Niles sat besides the intercom, sparing a glance at the strawberries, and sighed at this deliciously twisted situation.


	12. Decision

**Evidence**

**Chapter 11: Decision**

Niles was hearing the office's conversation through the intercom, and he kept wondering if an intervention was in order.

Mister Sheffield had called Miss Babcock to ask her about _something_ she had just told him; it involved a choreographer that said _something_ about an actor who had said _something_ about a number.

(It seemed to Niles that the British producer had a point of making clear how little he had heard of what his partner had described to him earlier.)

The butler had been increasingly anxious about the route that conversation was taking: at each information Babcock had to repeat, her tone got more and more clipped, and Niles could almost see her face contorting in waves of pain at the time they were loosing.

He had an urge to go there and fix things with a probably welcomed distraction, but he was hesitant.

At one side, he could still taste the strawberries, the chocolate and Babcock in his mouth, and he knew these things were messing with his head and making him want to run to save her as if he was a knight in shining armor and she was a damsel in distress.

(The image was captivating, he had to admit. And funny, once he was thinking of _them_ in such roles.)

CC Babcock surely was in distress, but she was not a damsel – not in the usual sense of being an useless and frightened princess. She didn't exactly need Niles to defend her in a daily basis, and he admired her for it.

(Maybe his sensation that he was needed was just his desire to create an excuse to be in the same room with her again, making her look at him and maybe, just maybe, making her realize she should have stayed with him in the kitchen.)

At the other side, even if he were not feeling his emotions chemically disturbed, he was not sure he had anything to do to help matters: Maxwell being obtuse was not exactly new; the blonde should be used to that, and her annoyance usually added fuel to her business decisions. Niles expected her to get over her frustration, improve her skills as a storyteller and retell the same thing for Maxwell's sake while subtly pointing out her opinions.

That was how things worked for her.

That was exactly what she had been doing for some time, in the office.

Niles was content to just hear while she let her style dominate the place, usually.

However, at some point that day, the conversation stopped being about what had happened and what she thought about it, and started being about what Maxwell thought it should have been and how she should have acted.

Niles could barely believe when the man started to question the way his partner had dealt with the choreographer's demands. One of the things that had made their association successful – Babcock's strength and strong voice against people who didn't have any idea of how schedules and contracts worked – was being put under doubt, and the reason seemed to be Maxwell's difficulty in seeing that, sometimes, decisions had to be made in the spur of the moment, and it didn't mean they were necessarily wrong.

Niles was surprised at how much the situation seemed to favor himself: Babcock was facing how Maxwell Sheffield had difficulties understanding her strategies as a businesswoman; at the same time, he made clear he saw any spontaneity as a dangerous thing and not worth even a careful evaluation.

It occurred to Niles that it seemed when he asked her to come to _him_, it meant fun; when _Maxwell_ did it, it meant work and, sometimes, unfair questioning.

The butler thought he should be feeling hopeful at the possible positive outcomes.

However, he was not happy with the situation.

He couldn't be happy at CC being treated as if she was any less than competent and... well, _perfect_.

She was usually right, at work: she had been able to attract a lot of people and keep just the stronger ones among them working in their productions – the ones she knew could bear with her demands and add something of value to the things the partners intended.

(He liked to think she just let the strongest and better ones close to her – it made him think it was a privilege to be among them.)

She didn't let names and connections impress her when business was at stake. She had difficulties while seeing it in her personal life, but while making business she had it very clear who did good to her and who did not.

(And that was what gave him hope she would notice the parallel and see who had been the man for her all the time…)

Niles followed closely, while her annoyance turned into shock and into incredulity and, finally, into a kind of impatient agreement.

He could hear in her voice how much she just wanted to end that conversation.

Well, her wish was an order – _that_ was enough to dissipate any hesitation he had been having.

Niles turned off the intercom and went to the office, as quickly as he could without running.

(One of the bad parts of being spontaneous is you start doing things and then you realize you don't really have a plan.)

He met Fran halfway and took her by the arm, never stopping his march, 'Take Mister Sheffield out of the office'.

She was surprised by his manhandling and the demand, 'To where?'

'I don't care. Just take him out. For a walk. To see the children. To go to your bedroom and see you trying a new dress. Whatever you can think of'.

'Or?'

'Babcock will murder him'.

'Oh, Sweetie, I don't think she would...'

'Shush!'

Niles opened the office's door and they almost invaded it, stopping at the middle of the room, and frozen at the positively murderous glance the blonde was throwing at an obvious Maxwell.

The butler turned to stare at the nanny as if saying _Told you so!_, and she acted immediately, talking loudly and pointing to the corridor with authority, 'Mister Sheffield! We have to talk to Brighton _right now_!'

The man frowned, 'What did he do this time?'

The brunette smiled, 'Nothing. He just has been so good that we should give him some... some…'

'...positive enforcement', Niles chimed in.

'Exactly!', she agreed.

CC, who had been tapping her feet and scowling at the scene, subtly relaxed. She had realized they were up to something, once she noticed Niles had an eye at her reactions.

'Must it be now, Miss Fine? I'm in the middle of something with CC, here...'

'Some more important than your son?', Fran whined, ignoring Niles' scoff.

'Something more important than Miss Fine's educational methods?', Niles pointed out, raising his brows.

Fran seemed to reach a decision, 'You know, Niles, you're right – it's about _my_ methods. I should go there alone and talk to B. Maybe take him to some place he chooses as long as it has good shops around. What can go wrong? I can even see again Charlie, that cute guy from the…'

'No, no, no, it won't be necessary!', Maxwell got up and started circling hurriedly the desk, towards Fran. He stopped for a moment to look at his partner, wringing his hands nervously, 'CC, I really wish I could stay...'

The blonde waved nonchalantly, 'Don't worry, Maxwell. Just go. Maybe I will sleep here, in the leather sofa, so you can find me easily when you get back'.

'Don't you think it would be a bit uncomfortable?', he asked, confused.

Fran saw that was the perfect moment to chime in, 'Miss Babcock is very competent, Mister Sheffield! I'm sure she will manage. Can we go already?'

The two dark-heads disappeared by the office door, and the blondes stayed.

Niles kept observing while CC put a hand on her right temple, as if to assess a headache, and walked to support her backside on the desk.

'Are you all right?', he asked, sounding sincerely concerned, 'You didn't have the opportunity to bite anyone. I suppose it can make you feel weird'.

'I should have at least yelled at him. It would have been a relief', she agreed and looked through the open door while stretching her arms, trying to relax, 'Is _he_ always like that?'

Niles tilted his head, his eyes following each movement she did and noticing how they showed her curves, 'He usually doesn't dare to question your decisions. I sincerely don't know what kind of death wish came over him today, poking a dangerous beast while being so close'.

'Isn't it?', she agreed again, putting her arms down, her hands resting on the desk at each side of her hips. Her eyes went to him and stayed, noticing he had a heated glance over her, and that she felt quickly warmed and excited again, as she had been in the kitchen, 'I could use you to vent out some frustration. Have you considered it?'

He smirked, 'What do you intend to do?'

'You said I was the kind that needed to bite'.

'And I won't take it back', he spoke while giving a step towards her, 'Maybe you didn't because that was kind of what you were doing before you came here, so you were… satiated'.

'Are you in any way insinuating I'm _not_ insatiable?', she smiled at his closeness.

'How would I know?', he stayed in front of her, the fingers of his right hand touching lightly the desk, next to her hand and still not touching.

'You should have deduced. Do I usually behave like I have got enough of anything?', and she stretched her fingers until they brushed his.

His eyes went to their touching fingertips on the desk and came back to her face. He spoke softly, 'A bit earlier, in the kitchen, I had the impression you had had enough and was out for something new'.

'That's a serious accusation', she pretended to be offended, 'Maxwell would not like to be called _something new_'.

Niles chuckled and got a bit closer, whispering, 'I'm glad you admitted that it's serious'.

'I could never say otherwise'.

They were looking at each other that way again, eyes boring into eyes and then escaping to glance at lips that were too close and too attractive to resist.

After some moments, CC whispered, 'I have a question'.

Niles just nodded. It was like they were in such an intimate moment it would be a sacrilege to communicate louder than this.

In fact, it was like they didn't need anything more than stares and whispers and light touches. They were creating something there, with subtleness and delicate things, and when you are in such synchrony, you don't need much.

'Why did you come here?'

He blinked and remained staring at her.

She took his left hand and placed it on her hip, 'Don't think. Just answer'.

Niles threw a look at his hands – they were somewhat locked with hers, at each side of her body, and he was invaded by the notion that she was positioning him on her.

She wanted that closeness as much as him, and she was showing it physically, pulling him to her, and verbally, asking his motives.

Both things were a mix of putting herself in his hands and showing what she wanted, and he found himself resistless, 'I need a moment to assess my feelings', he explained, hoping she believed him.

She nodded and leaned enough to touch her forehead to his, 'I know sometimes it's hard to put in words what we feel. In fact, I may be an specialist in the field'.

He closed his eyes and was silent for a moment. Then, he murmured, 'I think I wanted your conversation with him to stop'.

'Why?', her head moved and she touched his temple with her lips.

Niles was surprised at how comforting her touch was, because he had the sensation that, in any other occasion, he couldn't let those words pass through his throat, 'As soon as you were out of the kitchen I missed you. I turned the intercom on, so I could hear your voice and know what you were doing…'

'You creepy old man…', she murmured, smiling and placing another light kiss on his temple, enjoying his scent.

He smiled back without opening his eyes, 'That seemed to be all about business... But suddenly he was annoying you. For some reason, it disturbed me, and I started thinking if I should do something'.

'You were deciding if you should come and save me', CC said, her hands caressing his, on the desk and on her hip.

'Even if I knew it would probably infuriate you', the thumb of the hand on her hip moved to caress her side lightly.

'Because it would seem you thought of me as defenseless...', now she planted a light kiss on his cheek.

'And that would be an absurd', he said, feeling her nose grazing the side of his face.

'But the question remains: if you knew I could stand by myself, why did you come?'

He frowned slightly before answering, 'Because you were happy in the kitchen... with me. I wanted to be with you and see you relaxed and well again', he murmured, entwining the fingers of the hands on the desk.

'So…', she relaxed her body against his, as if to illustrate his point and make sure she recognized his effort to admit those things, 'You want me happy?'

'I discovered that's what I live for', Niles brought their hands from the desk slowly to her hip, holding her now like he had when they danced, 'He was destroying all the good work I had done in the kitchen. I couldn't let it happen'.

'You really think you are the one for the mission, don't you?', she rested her lips on the corner of his mouth.

'Yes…', he sighed.

'Maybe you are right...', she said, and then sighed, too, and separated from him enough to look at his face, 'But maybe we'll never know'.

He opened his eyes immediately, 'Why do you say that?'

(As soon as he talked, both realized her sadness had a counterpart on his whispered plea.

Things were sounding exactly how they felt: she sounded sad because she would be miserable if they couldn't go further; his tone was pleading because he would beg her to not give up, if needed.)

She maneuvered slowly to take her hands out of his, pausing them enough over his to make him understand she wanted his where they were.

She put hers on his chest, then.

They were comfortable because it was like their dance.

Still, she had that familiar feeling of not being sure if she should push or pull him.

She had to say out loud the realization that was troubling her since that freezing night in Sylvia's couch, 'We keep being interrupted, Niles. Every single time we get closer, something happens. It's Maxwell, it's Nanny Fine, it's the whole Sheffield and Fine families… Sometimes it seems… that we are cursed, or something like that', she shook her head, 'I feel like an idiot, saying this'.

'You shouldn't', he said, smiling sweetly, 'Being who you are, I had to be very obtuse to not expect an explanation related to witchery coming from you', he tilted his head, 'And I'm not _him_'.

In an impulse at the obvious fondness she felt now for him and his wit, CC took him by the lapels of his coat and brought him even closer to her, settling Niles between her legs.

Startled by the pull, his hands took a stronger grip on her hips.

All the grabbing made both all hot.

They were invaded by the same feeling: their relationship had been so complicated, so twisted, and seemingly so impossible, for all those years, that they had locked inside a lot of strong emotions and desires. These things could not be contained anymore, even if they had to face their different tempers and principles to let them surface.

If those challenges were not enough, CC had pointed the other thing between them: they had to deal with a bunch of people that kept intruding.

It was like being in an overcrowded place – you know the person you want is somewhere close, but you can't see beyond the multitude of distractions.

Moments like this were rare, but showed they fitted so well there was no way they could spend a life not knowing what it was to be really together.

Their eyes met and Niles asked seriously, 'What do you think the interruptions mean?'

She sustained his stare, 'That we live with over-active people? That maybe we can't be… all right while we're here? I don't know. What I know is that it's bad, because we spend a lot of time, here, among them'.

'We had a lot of good moments, in this mansion, too', he said with conviction, and caressed her hips.

'Yeah, we had. Bizarre, nasty and unforgettable moments', she smiled, caressed his chest and got serious, 'But then, why we just get closer peacefully out of here? At Sylvia's, in the penthouse, at potting classes… Why is it things never last while we're here?'

'Do you want it?'

'What?'

'Do you want things to... _last_?'

CC blinked, surprised at the word she had chosen, and at how much it said about her own expectations on this. She could see, by the way he was looking at her, that Niles was hopeful she wouldn't take it back.

'I do', she answered, and smiled at his loving expression at her, 'But, like I said…', her voice gained a frustrated tint, '...maybe it's not possible'.

'I can do it, if you want'.

She pretended surprise, 'Oh, my God! I just had to ask you?!', she shook her hand again, dropping the sarcasm, 'We both know that's not how things work...'

'I'll make you believe', he declared and went into motion.

CC stayed there, kind of frozen, while Niles got out of her arms, moved to the glass doors, closed them, went to the office door, closed it and pulled the green sofa to block it.

When he came to stand before her again, CC was looking at him as if she didn't quite understand what he had done.

Niles looked her in the eye and explained, 'No interruptions'.

She pressed her lips against each other, trying to contain a smile: she didn't know if it was foolish or beautiful.

He was approaching slowly, 'This is our bubble; our little world, to be preserved for some moments. Whatever happens outside won't matter to what we decide to do while here'.

She noted his slow steps meant he was being careful and asking her permission to be back to where he was before. She groaned, 'For God' sake, let's resume where we stopped. I can't take the slow start all over again!'

Niles grinned and came quickly to settle between her legs, his hands on her sides.

His childish expression made her grin.

In his enthusiasm, he gave her a noisy peck on the lips, and placed the side of his face against hers, 'Ops! I think this is a step further from where we were. I hope you don't mind'.

She chuckled, her right hand going up to touch the side of his neck and advance to his nape, while her left one explored the length of his back, 'You make it difficult for me not to bite you'.

He smelled her hair, 'How many times do I have to say I'm here for what you need?'

'Even if it's so complicated it hurts?'

'I've lost the capacity of not wanting anything that comes from you'.

CC used her right hand to grab his hair and pull him a bit, just strong enough for Niles to understand she wanted to look at his face.

He easily obeyed, and their eyes met.

Her hand started caressing the spot on the back of his head where she had pulled him, and she could see how her caress affected him by the way his blue eyes softened.

At the same time, she felt his hair against her fingers and his strong back under her hand, and always having a part of him closed enough to be caressed seemed to be a very important goal in her life, now.

CC brought her hands to his chest, really resuming their previous positions, and she observed how he breathed deeply and slowly, as if to calm himself.

'What is it?', she asked, curious.

(They were back to whispers.)

'I'm trying to calm down and keep the pace. This is too important to be treated with less than total care'.

'I thought we were trusting spontaneity'.

'We are; but I can't possibly do everything I want'.

'Are you sure?'

'Uhm?'

'Are you sure you can't do every thing you want with me?'

Niles felt so happy he had to gulp down and do something to distract his heart; so, he enlaced her waist with his arms, molding their bodies, 'Don't you think I have already been very daring, with you, since we've met?'

'Yes, you have… Enough to call my attention and keep it… It's a pity you always used the nastiest tricks…'

'You're being unfair. I was the one who decided to share a sofa with you in a freezing room'.

'So, this is time I pay back? It's time for me to do something nice?'

Niles didn't know how he managed to speak, 'I've been waiting for you to decide if this is what you really want'.

CC closed her eyes. It was her turn to expose herself, and she would not back away.

Her lips grazed his cheek, exploring his skin, and went closer and closer to his mouth while she spoke, 'I'm used to make rational decisions; my work demands it from me. I've tried to act rational when you were concerned, but it seems all I do based in my beliefs goes wrong when our relationship is at stake. There is something about you that breaks every single thing I believe. It shakes me to the core, and still I can't simply push it aside. It seems I need it to fulfill my days', she smiled, 'And my nights', she pressed her lips, pecking the corner of his mouth, 'And it makes no sense at all'.

'Experimentation is a valid rational method', his voice came in a shaky whisper, 'You should just try me and see what happens'.

'Yeah', she answered, in a low tone, 'I think I'll listen to your ancient knowledge this time, Butler Boy'.

And she did it.

Delicately, she let her lips advance on his, giving him again one of those kisses they had been sharing since their agreement to be nicer began.

However, as soon as she felt him relax against her and start savoring the contact of their mouths joined, she let her tongue flicker on, licked his lower lip, and demanded entrance.

When he opened his mouth, welcoming her, she thought her head would explode.

Yes, she already knew they had chemistry, but this was ridiculous.

It was a kind of connection she had never felt with anyone but this same man, while both were slightly drunk.

She always preferred to think that moment had been of alcohol induced passion: nothing like that could resist to sobriety. Something so magnificent had to be ephemeral. Such a perfect partnership didn't exist in reality.

However, here she was: sober, in the middle of a house where they were usually never in peace, being rescued from a terrible day (for the second time!) by Niles, the butler, her sworn enemy.

(In fact, there was no way she could consider him an enemy, now. His mouth and body were too delicious.

Of course, a prisoner of war, at her mercy, would be an interesting fantasy...

The idea solely made her cling to him with even more force, loosing herself in sensations she usually related to rare great sex or enormous quantities of booze.)

When they separated, they opened their eyes and spontaneously kissed again, one, two, three times, as if they were making out for lost time: each kiss was not just a peck, now, even if they were briefer than the first one – they had a hungriness about them.

It was still delicate, but without any hesitance or doubt.

At some point they realized someone was forcing the office door while talking loudly.

(It was Maxwell Sheffield, obviously. It seemed he had forgotten to tell something to his partner, and he needed to enter, and why the hell was the office door locked?!)

CC maintained her hands on Niles, caressing him and bringing him to her for more tender and slow kisses.

She barely registered Nanny Fine's voice saying something about not waiting for him, and Maxwell giving up.

It sounded very far. They were really in a bubble.

(Would it be evidence of anything?)

For a moment, CC thought of throwing a jibe about people fetching pitchforks to get them out of their bubble (what she knew would set Niles up for a witch joke), but she thought the moment was worth more than any joke or smart comment.

Their bubble was where they decided it would be, and she was glad they were inside it right now.

(Maybe it was evidence of something she couldn't ignore anymore…)


	13. Fran

_Finally, chapter 13! I'm sorry for the delay. Workload – I'm sure you get it._

**Evidence**

**Chapter 13: Fran**

Fran Fine considered herself a good person.

She loved her friends, wanted to see them happy and was generally accepting of their choices, even when they were way too stupid.

(She had made her share of mistakes, in life, and she was best friends with Val. You learn not to criticize.)

But this thing about Niles and Miss Babcock was too much, even for her.

She was reaching now the place she had feared to come and still knew she had to. Stopping for a moment after waving at the doorman, Fran put a nail in her teeth and frowned in worry – and not just because she had just discovered her nails were not as shining as they should be.

It had to do with the woman she was ready to meet in a few moments, when this lift the nanny was waiting for stopped at the penthouse of the building.

Fran started thinking about what brought her here.

She had noticed Niles was going through some kind of change when he started making excuses to be protective of Miss Babcock without bothering to hide it too much: he would take her to the penthouse when she worked late and admit he had come home by the back door just to not share the details with Fran; he would enter the office not to just pester the blonde, but to make sure she didn't say anything too harsh to Mister Sheffield; he would block the door to maintain the partners apart after a scene that had been tense to the businesswoman and could end badly for her career.

(That part of the locked door had been especially concerning to Fran: she had approached Niles later about it, stressing the fact she had helped him by pulling Mister Sheffield out of his obsession over talking business, and made clear she wanted to see his gratitude in the form of information.

Her friend didn't even flinch: he just thanked her and refused to comment on what had happened inside the office.)

Fran was not a fool when the subject was feelings: Niles was getting nicer to Miss Babcock, she was apparently softer towards him and the possibility of it being in an advanced status of him getting _hard_ about her while she was _bad_ to him was very high.

(The brunette still grimaced at the kinky possibilities. She was really not ready for that.)

She was trying to be light about it, but the truth was that Niles' continuing refuse to let her in the loop was hurting her feelings. It meant he didn't trust her with something that was serious to him.

(And, yes, it meant it was _serious_ to him. _Oy._)

To top it all, she had to make an effort to not mix things and be sure she was not just acting jealous over her friend and the possibility of him wanting a serious relationship with the Ice Queen, of all people.

Fran entered the lift and adjusted her purse while the doors closed.

It was not like Fran wanted Niles to herself. Well, when she came to work in the mansion, she knew Niles had an eye on her. She had noticed him, too: he was gentle, clever and in good shape, for an older guy. Fran was more into the tall-dark-handsome type, but she couldn't think of the stuffy Mister Sheffield that way, in the beginning, and Niles' presence during her day routine was getting more and more comfortable: it was him who taught her how the people's schedules worked, which were the children's more important antics, which were their boss' patterns of behavior…

(Thinking of that, he was always very ambiguous about Miss Babcock: he mocked her, but never expressed seriously what he thought of her. Fran should have noticed before how he was not able to be sincere about that woman…)

Anyway, the nanny learned to appreciate the butler's wit and all the precious information he was willing to give. She knew he had done part of it for the pleasure of gossiping and showing how much he knew, but she was sure a big part of it was the fact he liked her and wanted her to succeed and stay with the family.

In a surprisingly short time, she had joined him in the homey routines, and having tea together over small chat, or reading magazines while he cooked created a warm feeling of companionship between them.

More than this: Niles made Fran feel cared every time he laughed sincerely at her jokes and seemed to found her kind of knowledge endearing **and valuable **(what was not a frequent thing for her).

(He defended her against their boss more times than it was wise, in fact.

He was more than likeable at a variety of occasions, in fact.

He was rather impressive when he wanted, in fact.)

And he made sure he found her attractive, too, what was not new to Fran, but was a nice change of pace, once usually she was not considered worth more than physical praise from clever guys.

She had to admit, they had even been flirting: Niles had pointed out to her how much he liked her looks; he had shamelessly showed Mister Sheffield she was better raising the children than the two of them at that point; he had been up in the middle of the night to help her dig a pair of shoes she was really fond of, after Gracie had insisted Imogene liked them enough to have them buried with it…

And, suddenly, it was over.

Yes, he still was the caring guy and the sure friend, and the intimate conversations were there, yet, but the sexual undertones were not. Niles changed the gears and stopped insinuating anything about them, and started insinuating things about her and Mister Sheffield.

Of course, Fran soon realized he was right, and she was the one for the millionaire. However, she couldn't deny she had a strange feeling when she first noticed the butler had changed his attitude.

She had had her share of being bumped in life, but it was different: he accepted her completely, and he still behaved like he adored her and would support almost anything she did, but the spark of desire had suddenly disappeared, as if he had magically switched it off. This was confusing.

After some time considering it, Fran decided Niles had seen the kiss Mister Sheffield gave her the first opening night she went, and he must have thought that place was not his. It explained why he had simply stepped aside – she guessed he was not the kind of guy who just sleeps around at any opportunity, and he would never pursue anything with her after seeing there was a good possibility of her and his boss to hit it seriously.

Seeing now how he had started acting different around Miss Babcock, the nanny realized Niles had probably been pining over the socialite for years; his feelings towards Fran had been of friendship and attraction, surely, but never the passion he saw between her and Mister Sheffield, and that was because he knew real passion: it was what he felt for Miss Babcock.

It meant all of this time, even when he was trying to build something with her, Fran, he was just trying to suffocate something deeper and stronger.

It made Fran worried, because that guy had always been a source of level-headedness for the family. He had been there for them, being the no-nonsense one. What would happen now that he was falling so hard for someone, that, even being a very strange and complicated situation, he couldn't refrain from letting the evidences of it show?

And especially, how would he deal with the fact this someone who was breaking his long-built fortress was a person like CC Babcock?

When she first started thinking about it, Fran decided it must be a fling. She had seen their interactions before, and they always bordered on flirting. Sometimes, they bordered in physical violence, too, and she just assumed they would be on the edge of something for a lifetime, without really acting on it. She supposed for some reason they would never have what was necessary to change things between them.

And she must confess she liked things how they were: Niles supporting her and dedicating his time to get Mister Sheffield to commit. That was good.

However, now it was obvious that, if Niles wanted Miss Babcock to himself (it still sounded surreal even in her mind, as a possibility, but she had to deal with it), he would seize any opportunity to throw Fran in the arms of Mister Sheffield – it would take the man away from the blonde definitively.

Even fearing the outcomes of it, Fran knew this new situation was not that bad to her – Niles would still be interested in helping her. The point here was the possible influence Miss Babcock could have over him, if they got close enough to start something that resembled a romantic and mature relationship.

She smiled lightly at the luxury around her and soft music playing, and remembered how incredible it was when she had to give up being in denial about this whole situation: she had gone to that dancing club with Val, and what she saw there were evidences she couldn't pretend she hadn't noticed anymore.

The lift stopped, the doors opened and Fran got out of it.

She had just promised herself to go out more – she had been stuck with Mister Sheffield for such a long time she was beginning to get worried about getting out of shape in dating. So, she accepted to go dancing with Val, last Friday.

To her surprise (and bad surprise), she was not enjoying herself at the club they chose. She just kept observing the people in the crowded dance floor and thinking about her own desire her boss was with her, there, moving along her and not being the proper man he thought he had to be.

Val came to her with their drinks, 'What's happening, Fran? You have a horrible face!'

'Thank you, Val. That's exactly what I wanted someone shouting at me here', Fran took her drink and sipped it.

'Sorry. I just want you to have fun. That's what we came here for!'

'I know, sweetie, I know', she pulled Val in a friendly hug and they let go as quickly as possible, because some guys were already looking at them and probably fantasizing things. They sat side by side at the bar stools and Fran resumed her whining, 'Just look at these people, Val. How they are connected to each other. How they dance as if they had found the one for them…'

'Yeah, I like to watch, too', Val agreed, looking hungrily to the crowd and never noticing the stare Fran threw at her unintended creepiness. After some time she pointed at a couple with her finger, 'Wow, look at those two! It shows they're quite close'.

Fran squinted to see who she was pointing at, 'Ah, I've noticed them before. The blondes, isn't it? They are really getting it on. I was making my mind on yelling for them to get a room'.

'Why? Everybody is bumping at each other… People are kind of jumping at the songs…'

'Those two are almost _jumping each other_, Val', Fran sighed and sipped her drink again, 'Maybe I'm just jealous…'

'I didn't know you knew them'.

'I don't, Val, I meant… Aaaaawwww, I love this song!'

It had just started _Let's give them something to talk about_, and Val joined Fran in the recognition, making her own _Aaaaaawwwww_ and putting her hands on the sides of her face.

(The complete Fine-Toriello delighted recognition signs of something almost unbearable cute.)

Decided to have fun anyway, Fran took her friend's hands from her face and pulled her to dance. After some overjoyed moves, the girls started throwing looks at their sides to be sure there were available males already checking on them.

Fran saw the blond couple again.

They had got to a closer spot in the dancing floor, and they were taking advantage of the slower song to be snuggled against each other, now.

In fact, they were moving to the beat, but they were sharing kisses, too, and Fran could feel the tenderness from where she was, by the way they seemed to be in synch, in a different rhythm from the rest of the people around.

Tenderness and something more: the hands of the woman went through the man's hair, and his hands pulled her closer by the waist. The light was low, but the way their heads moved showed they were kissing leisurely, enjoying each other and completely lost to the world.

Fran sighed, went to the bar and took her drink to sip again. She thought they had a striking resemblance to Niles and Miss Babcock, but it could never be them, for a series of reasons:

-they were Niles and Miss Babcock, and they would never be together, dancing and kissing, in a public place;

-Niles usually spent his nights in the mansion, even the Fridays;

-Miss Babcock had no social life, no romantic life, and it was highly improbable she would ask Niles to change it;

-they were Niles and Miss Babcock.

Fran decided she was probably getting obsessed over them.

She sighed and searched the crowd for the couple, anyway.

They were clearly involved, and there was something about them Fran wished she could have, too.

(Why was Mister Sheffield so difficult? He made clear he felt something for her, but she couldn't imagine them like those two, letting the desire and the caring take over and just let things happen.)

She had to admit she could imagine Niles and CC Babcock, being so passionate about how they felt for each other, creating between them that kind of uncontrollable thing Fran wished.

(What meant, kind of tragically, that was more probable that the butler and socialite had an affair, than her and Mister Sheffield developed anything.)

Fran went back to dance with Val, drink in hand and feeling slightly pathetic at the whole situation. She glanced at the couple once more, just in time to see them pulling apart and the light flick on their faces.

She spitted some of her drink, 'Oh my God!'

Val looked at her gawking face, 'What is it, Fran? What happened? Was there something in the drink? A fly?'

The brunette didn't know how they managed to get out of the club without being seen by the unsuspecting couple, but they did.

She didn't want to confront them in such a situation.

She had to deal first with the image of Miss Babcock's profile with a happy and almost shy smile, her arms on Niles shoulders, and his tender look at her.

After some hours, lots of ice cream and rational thinking, Fran was on the verge of not interfering in the situation. She was not exactly Queen of Rational Thinking, but she had dedicated a lot of time pondering over the dilemma, and thought that maybe they were adults and had to be given time to deal with their own things.

She thought about talking to Niles about it, expressing her worries and offering help, and could imagine him blurting out something along the lines of _The only help I need of you is that you keep Mister Sheffield to yourself_.

(What would be cute and terrifying.)

But then, she saw the scene of the limo, yesterday, and she realized the person she had to talk was not Niles.

All the family had gone to the limo: Maxwell Sheffield, his three children and Fran herself. They were going to Maggie's school Saturday event. Niles was driving them, and he asked if Miss Babcock wanted a lift.

(Obviously, he masked it in a zinger: _'You're coming with us, aren't you? We need a powerful being to guarantee our safety and be sure we won't get lost… Wait. It has never worked. Sir, our personal voodoo is defective. We need an exchange!'_)

Fran remembered how the blonde rolled her eyes at him, and then asked if people was sure they were not stopping at the Fine's.

Niles pretended to find it a great idea, and grinned at her.

Maxwell was not happy by the butler's attitude and guaranteed they were going directly to the school. Of course, they still could leave CC at the penthouse in their way there.

She hesitated, looking at her business partner.

Fran saw the moment she looked back at Niles, and how her face changed at his more serious expression.

He was not grinning or joking, anymore. He was looking at her as if he really wanted her to come, and was just waiting for her answer.

And then CC Babcock accepted.

That would be enough evidence, for Fran. But it had more.

When people entered the car, the blonde stayed behind pestering Niles.

Until the last moment, she stayed with him, bickering while he made sure everybody was settled for the trip.

When he said something about her 'shutting up and entering the car', she answered with 'I won't risk you changing course, this time', and took the passenger seat, besides him.

Fran couldn't believe how effortlessly it had happened.

They chatted between themselves from the moment they got out of the mansion, and all the way to her apartment building.

Fran could hear Niles chuckling sincerely at the blonde's sarcastic comments at his supposed lack of any notion of direction, once he had to count on nanny Fine to go anywhere; and she would listen to the endearment in his voice when he answered her properly, pointing out how bad to her that her broom had turned useless after she gained so much weight.

Fran had a good view of them through the open inner window, and she watched their faces while they interacted.

They exchanged warm stares.

All the time.

(What was happening? And how was it that no one had noticed?

Well, sometimes she thought Grace had noticed, but that girl could keep a secret… Fran had to work on it later.)

When Niles parked the car for Miss Babcock to get out, the woman turned to the people in the back seat to, in a gesture that was clear evidence of her good mood, wish they had fun 'in the school thing'.

They thanked and wished her a good weekend.

While the rest of the family resumed their conversation, Fran kept observing the pair in the front seat.

She could swear for a moment they were leaning into each other to kiss good bye. They clearly had to refrain from doing so, and it was clear by their faces they were miserable over it.

(Fran was impressed she had never noticed it before – was it so hard for them to separate every time?)

Suddenly, Niles had his eyes wide and he looked down.

His face was of surprise, and soon he looked back at the blonde's face and smiled softly.

Fran was sure the woman had taken his hand.

And that was why, to be totally in peace with herself, Fran decided the next step was to confront Miss Babcock.

She had come to the penthouse, in this Sunday afternoon, after spending the day with her mother and discussing her own situation with Mister Sheffield in length. It made sense to end her weekend visiting the Blonde and making sure she knew Fran had an eye on her, and that she had to be careful with Niles' feelings, if she wanted to live without any horrible Jewish curses hanging over her head.

Fran breathed deeply and rang the bell. This promised to be a difficult conversation.


End file.
